Shaman King 2498
by Amor
Summary: It is the year 2498, and the next Shaman Fight is about to begin. But this time, the battle is intensely political. An abundance of spirits have caused there to be more shamans than ever...and more challenges for any aspiring Shaman King.
1. The Voices In My Head

I walk down the streets carefully, trying to squeeze my way through the crowds of people. Traffic rockets by, cutting through the sounds of several conversations at once. Giant screens display the latest news: _New trade deal between Chinaka and India, rumoured MPP--Toya Numoro wins state battlemech championships, headed for imperials--new survey reveals the health dangers of chocolate-- _I sigh and turn away from the screen. 

I bump into an elderly businessman. "Sorry, sir." I mumble. Where was I going again? Oh yeah, the arcade. My family couldn't afford the latest systems, so I spent most of my time hanging out with Kiyoshi at the arcade. My favourite game is "Final Conquest", but Kiyoshi always beets me at it. 

My vision starts to swim. Gasping, I press myself against the wall of a nearby drug store. I've always had occasional faint spells. Sometimes I even hallucinate after one. The doctors can't seem to find anything wrong with my brain, and I have a bad reaction to the medication. Besides, it doesn't happen very often any ways. 

I shake my head to clear my vision. The unnoticing crowd presses on in front of me. And with them is something else. He looks like...some kind of martial artist? He is dressed in a thick _gi_, and staring straight at me. But...people are moving through him, causing his image to ripple. It seems to me that he's not _here, _at least not in the sense that I am. He's not physical...he's a ghost. 

It's just a hallucination, I tell myself. I always see what I think are ghosts when I hallucinate. It's bad, but I have to put up with it. I rub my eyes, but the ghost doesn't go away. Instead, he moves towards me, spectral arms outstretched. A car goes through him, and that point in my sight ripples. _Choose me. _That voice in my head...it came from him. I know that. 

There are other spirits moving around. I can barely see their bodies, slim silver forms, but their hissing voices fill my mind. _Choose me. Choose me. Choose me. _I shut my eyes and try to force out the voices. Go away! You're not real! And suddenly, they're gone. I open my eyes, and see no more martial artist. He's gone. 

I shake my head and move on, once again joining the throng of pedestrians. You're a nut job, Natsume. A real nut job.__

__

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__Shaman King 2498 

Chapter 1: The Voices in My Head 

A fanfiction by Amor 

Disclaimer: I don't own Shaman King. Duh. The future world in which this takes place is mine, however.__

__

__This fanfiction is written PG-13: May not be suitable for children under thirteen. This chapter contains really nothing objectionable besides a little bit of swearing, but future chapters may contain graphic violence, sexuality and shounen-ai. 

07/03/04 Edit--Changed a bit of the wording (mainly to remove fanboy Japanese) and the name of the organization (seeing as how Japan isn't really a nation any more.)__

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I can't ignore them any more. I can see the spectral flares all around me. If I look at them, they form the shape of a ghost. There are so many of them. A homeless ghost hangs from a street pole. A pretty woman sits around on the corner, screaming at me to choose her. I don't know what it means, but they all say it. _Choose me...choose me..._

__

__"Can you believe it?" Kiyoshi is ranting next to me. "I mean, Eternal War III is their most anticipated product in years, and all they've been doing is giving it delay after delay! It's pissing me off!" His voice fades away to a numb score beneath the constant drumbeats of _choose me...choose me..._

__

__I have to stop this. 

I clench my eyes, letting the crowd carry me. I try to focus on Kiyoshi's words, ignoring the ghost's cries. _Choose me..._no! What is Kiyoshi saying? "...but I don't think it's true. I mean, Bioquake is stupid..." _Choose me... _Out!"...so what do you think? Hey..." _Choose me... _"...don't look so well, Natsume." 

I open my eyes. The ghosts are mostly gone, just glimmers in the sunlight with whispering voices. "Wha? Oh, I'm okay." Should I tell him? He'd probably just think I was insane. Which I probably am. 

Why are there so many ghosts? Why do they all want to choose me? Wait a minute, am I actually discussing the logistics of ghosts? There are no such things as ghosts. I am going insane. I should tell someone. Maybe there's something wrong with me. Every time I walk home, I see them. There are hundreds of ghosts on just one street, flickering in and out of my vision. 

I have got to get out of here. 

Taking a small detour, I take another route. This one is usually more peaceful than my normal one, and I go here to think. Think. That's what I need to do. 

There are still ghosts here. But not as many. The lowing hisses of _choose me... _still penetrate my ears, but I can make some attempt at thinking beyond them. Okay, I have a serious problem. I'm taking detours so that I hear less voices. Hey, I'm talking to myself. Isn't that one of the first signs of insanity? Well, I'm sure hearing voices and seeing ghosts is a definite sign... 

I pass by a small memorial, and glance at it curiously. 

This memorial honours the one thousand and four hundred Japanese soldiers who gave their lives in the Battle of Seoul, on December 23rd, 2064. Their determined bravery and heroic sacrifices helped end the War of Fire. 

_Choose me...choose me...choose me... _I wheel around, discovering that the voices are back. A mass of them has appeared, most looking like some kind of soldiers. I back away, backing into the monument. More ghost whisper in my ear. _Choose me...choose me...choose me... _

"No!" I scream out loud, breaking off in a run down the street. The pedestrians make way for me. I feel dozens of pairs of eyes staring at me, but I don't care any more. All I want is to get away from the ghosts. 

But they continue to come. I glance back out of fear and see all of the ghosts chasing after me, their spectral forms flowing through the air like it was water. Terrified, I keep running, panting as I do so. I dart through a street, causing cars to swerve and crash. I don't care. I have...to get..._away!_

The ghosts are faster than me. They flow around me, forming some kind of spectral circle. I fall to my knees. They dive at me, ghostly hands outstretched. Their hands stop inches from me, as if there's an invisible glass dome around me. "Please...stop it..." I plead. But the ghosts' mantra goes on. _Choose me...choose me..._

__

__Tears come to my eyes. I don't know long I sit there, listening to the ghost's cries, watching a circle gather around me. They can't see them. All they see is someone sobbing for no reason. I see the ghosts overlapping with pedestrians, and I tear my eyes away. Instead of staring at the spectres, I force my eyes to the ground, the tearstained sidewalk. 

Then the circle breaks. Two strong men grab me by my arms, and drag me away. They twist my arms behind my back, and put a jacket on me meant to hold them that way. A straight jacket, my mind suggests. Okay, I'm going to the loony bin. Not like I don't belong there or anything. Hey, wait a minute. I _am _insane! 

I am tossed in the back set of the van, a seat belt strapped over me. The white van starts to move. I can still hear the ghost's cries, but they start to fade away. _Choose me...choose me...choose me..._

__

__

__I don't know how long I've been here, in this white room with padded walls. A week, maybe. I try to count the days, but forget about it. There's nothing to do here. Well...there is one person. I have a cell mate, but he isn't alive any more. Apparently he died about two hundred years ago. He was a prisoner here too. Says he's Hannibal, but he looks like another mental patient. Like me. 

_"You know, it's too bad I'm a ghost," _pseudo-Hannibal said wistfully. _"Otherwise I could take that stupid jacket off of you."_

__

__"And then what," I say darkly. "I go back to living life insane?" Briefly, I wonder what my family thinks about this. Their only son turning out to be psycho. I hope they don't feel guilty or anything about it. 

_"You're not insane," _my ghostly cell mate responds. _"You're just gifted."_

__

__"Gifted?" I ask cautiously. The absurdity of the situation strikes me again. I'm having a conversation with a ghost! No, not a ghost. A figment of my imagination. I'm talking to one of the voices in my head. 

_"Yeah, you have the sight,"_ the ghost explains. _"I think you're a shaman too, but I can't be sure."_ I tell myself that this isn't real, this is just my consciousness thinking of something and my insanity twisting it. _"We get shamans thrown in here all the time, but they never stay long. For some reason, they don't want the great Hannibal as their spirit."_

Then again, I think, maybe he is a real ghost after all. I mean, the Hannibal thing is nuts, he seems to know much more about it than I ever knew. Maybe he's not a part of my consciousness after all. Or maybe I'm just making up facts. I don't know. I sigh and lie my head down on the padded wall, drifting into sleep. 

I am awakened to a loud rapping at my door. Oh joy. Meal time. I raise myself from the ground, and murmur "Come In..." The rapping ceases, and the door opens. To my surprise, it isn't one of the hospital workers. Two men in dark suits with sunglasses step through. 

"Natsume Takenouchi?" one of the men questions in a deep voice. Shyly, I nod my head. Being in a mental asylum kind of makes you feel inadequate. "Come with us." 

Slowly I lift myself from the floor and follow the men out. The ghost in my cell waves goodbye to me, and I try not to react. We head down the white hallway--everything in this building is white. They say it helps to ease the insanity, but in any case, it gets annoying. One of the mental workers finally catches up to me and the black-suited men. "Are you sure this is safe? You can't just remove a patient from here!" 

They're going to remove me? I feel elated, like I'm finally being saved. "Sir, we're with the government, please don't interfere."  
  
"I'd like to see some proof," the worker snaps back. 

One of the men removes a card carrier from his pocket and opens it. The card displays his picture, along with several lines of text I can't quite read. The worker focuses on it. "Chinaka Imperial Association of Shamans and Other Spirit Mediums? Is this some kind of joke?" 

"No joke, sir," the supposedly government agent says seriously. 

"I won't let phoneys like you..." the worker begins to say.   
  
"Makoto!" another worker says from down the hall, this one older. "It's okay. They're authorized to do that." 

"But..." the worker known as Makoto sputters. "Okay, but I don't like it." Frowning, he turns and walks down the halls. The agents continue walking the other way, and I follow them. Eventually, we reach the entrance to the asylum. Some of the inmates stare at me wistfully. 

The straight jacket binding me for the past week falls off my shoulders, and I slowly start to move my stiff arms. Eventually, I get them out in front of me, but I still can't move them very well. I clench and unclench my fists to make sure my hands still work. One of the agents clears their throat, and I hurry out the door. 

A blast of sunlight hits me, causing me to squint. It's a beautiful day, the sunlight bringing out the vibrant colours in the sky, the grass, and even the pavement. The agents hurry me along, and I see our destination: a short black limo, with tinted windows. "Where...are you taking me?" I ask, finally speaking. 

"Where you belong," one of the agents says ominously. A chill runs down my spine, despite the warmth of my surroundings. 

To be continued... 

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Author's Notes: 

This is my first foray into the fandom of Shaman King. Essentially, this is the story of the next Shaman fight, at the end of the 25th century. It kind of fits into a grander science fiction world that I've envisioned, but you don't need to know too much about that to read this. I will post background information in my author's notes when necessary. 

I will use mostly the terminology of the translated manga, but it really won't matter much since all characters are original any ways. 

I'd also like some feedback on the first-person, present-tense style. Does it work? Is it too pretentious? Should I keep it? Dump it? I really don't know, folks. That's what the review button is for.


	2. CIASOSM

One of the men in dark suits pulls the door open for me, and I step into the short limo nervously. Pulling my seat belt across myself quietly, I glance out the nearest window. I see nothing but shapes behind shadow, the tint on the windows working both ways. It's probably nothing, but I can't help but get the feeling that they're trying to stop me from seeing where we're going.

We start driving. At first I try to recognize the scenery we're driving by, but it's too difficult. Sighing, I lean back against the seat and think about the present turn of events. Where were they taking me, anywise? Another asylum? Some place even crazier? I shut my eyes, trying not to think about it. What else am I supposed to think about? I hope they'll at least be a viewer at wherever they're taking me. I haven't seen a prog since I got sent to the loony bin.

I try to sleep, but I'm not tired. Staring out through the window at the shapes vaguely resembling scenery is my only source of entertainment. I ask, repeatedly, where we're going, but the answers range from cryptic to non-existent. Occasionally they stop for fuel, and to change shifts on driving. I'm allowed out once to buy myself a drink.

Having nothing better to do, I keep track of the cities we pass through. Amagasaki, Maizuru, Tsuruga, Takefu... I now wish I had paid more attention in Geography class, so I could have some idea of where we were heading. I give up trying to make out names around Fukui. I lean back in my somewhat comfortable seat, wondering idly where I'm being taken.

The remainder of the several hour ride continued like that, boredom punctuated with moments of panic. There was a clock neither in the car nor in my room at the asylum, so I have no clue what time it is. However, the sky has taken on the violet tone of dusk by the time we stop.

I hear the car's driver talking to someone outside. "Here's my ID," the driver's deep voice says. A few murmurs of affirmation from whoever he was talking to later, we enter a long, dark tunnel occasionally lit by florescent globes.

I've almost fallen asleep again when the deep voice says to me "Get out, kid. We're here."

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Shaman King 2498

Chapter 2:CIASOSM 

A fanfiction by Amor 

Disclaimer: I don't own Shaman King. Duh. The future world in which this takes place is mine, however. 

This fanfiction is written PG-13: May not be suitable for children under thirteen. This chapter contains really nothing objectionable besides a little bit of swearing, but future chapters may contain graphic violence, sexuality and shounen-ai. 

07/03/04 Edit--Changed a bit of the wording (mainly to remove fanboy Japanese) and the name of the organization (seeing as how Japan isn't really a nation any more.)

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It's funny how if you wait for something long enough, you become comfortable with waiting. When the thing finally happens, you almost wish you were still waiting for it. That describes my reaction as we arrive at our destination. One of the agents opens the door, and I numbly step out.

We're in some sort of garage or parking lot. There aren't many cars here. Out of place is the small, sleek black bus taking up two spots a little way away. We're underground, the roof above us supported by a concrete pillar. I glance down the nearby tunnel, which we presumably came down. I can't see any kind of light down it.

"Where...are we?" I ask. One of the agents grunts and points me towards an orange door with peeling paint. A knot building in my stomach, I open it. We're in a stairwell, a tall room made of concrete and iron. The stairwell is lit by orange fluorescent lights.

One of the men points upwards, and I shakily walk. After a couple flights, my nervousness becomes mixed with boredom. How many stairs are there in this place anyway?

Finally, one of the suited men holds up his hand, signalling me to stop. The door in front of me reads "601:Head Trainer Darui." The agent (is it the same one each time, or do they alternate?) raises his hand and knocks on the door, creating a hollow, metallic sound which echoes throughout the chamber.

The door opens, and my heart leaps into my throat. A tall man opens it. He looks to be a Native American, and has jet black hair and a pinched face. He's wearing odd clothing, a long white robe and a strange headress.

"Natsume Takenouchi?" the tall man asks. I nod wordlessly. "Come in." As I step inside, he motions the agents away. "You did your job. He's in safe hands now." Looking relieved but slightly disappointed, the two black-suited men walk away out of sight. The orange door clangs shut behind me.

I take a look at the room I stand in, curious. It appears to be made of the same utilitarian concrete as the rest of the building, but this has been painted a relaxing brownish-yellow. Spread over the floor is an Indian rug. A discshelf lies in the back of the room, but strangely enough, most of it is taken up storing the antiquated _books_.

My attention is drawn, however, to what lives in the room. Four animals sleep in the room, and it's one of the strangest menageries I've ever seen. A snake lies curled up in a ball off to the side, next to a monkey dozing on top of a sleeping horse. A ram slumbers ignominiously, letting off a loud snore. They all have the same strange, ghostly quality to them.

I stare, and then clutch my head. I'm still insane. "Ah, I see you've met my totem spirits," the man says from behind me. With little indication, the animals suddenly awaken, getting up and staring at the tall man. "Shoo, you. I've got a new recruit." The mismatched animals scurry off, moving _through _the wall.

Feeling dizzy, I sit on the rug, as there are no chairs to speak of. The tall man sits down cross-legged opposite legged. "Hello, Natsume. I know this must all be a little confusing for you." Understatement of the year. His voice is calm and soothing, however, and despite myself I relax inside. "Would you like some tea?"

"N-no thanks," I reply shakily. Since being taken away, a sense of paranoia has been descending on me. I know it's unfounded, mind you. They wouldn't bring me all the way here just to poison me.

"All right," the man replies, seeming amused. "My name is Darui. I'm the head instructor here at CIASOSM. I'm also a member of the Shaman Fight Selection Committee." I blink several times. All of the talk is going way over my head, but I nod any ways.

Darui smiles. "It's okay, I know you don't know what I'm talking about. For now, just know that I'm here to help you. Should I start from the beginning?" I nod meekly. Darui clears his throat and begins to speak.

"Since the beginning of human civilization, the spirits of those who die before they are ready are walking this earth. Like all forces of nature, man has found a way to harness them." I resist the urge to roll my eyes at the mention of ghosts, figuring that it's no more insane than what I'm going through. "I know I may be starting a little grandiose, but it's important to establish history.

"The people who have the power to harness these ghosts, in various forms, are called shamans. Although their various methods and traditions vary from region to region, they are all connected by a spiritual bond. Nobody knows where the first shamans came from, but the talent has usually been passed down through bloodlines, though shamans are born out of mundane families as well.

"Not all people can see spirits, indeed, most of the population is completely out of tune with the spiritual plane. Which is funny, considering how much it effects them. Approximately 1% of the human population has enough spiritual awareness to see ghosts and mana. These peoples are called espepaths. An indeterminable amount of the population also can sense spiritual presence, but cannot see details of its forms.

"Approximately 0.1% of espepaths have high enough spiritual power to actually use ghost's power. In other words, for every hundred thousand people, one is a shaman. Keep in mind that some of them have only marginal powers.

"We seem to be facing a spiritual crisis of sorts. During the Great Wars and the chaos that followed, many, many souls left their body which were not content to simply die. Thus, we have more ghosts then we have at any other time in history. This has, for reasons uncertain, caused a spike in the number of non- 'pure bred' shamans."

"Wait, let me get this straight," I say unevenly. "You're saying that these ghosts are real, and I can use their powers because I'm one of these shaman people?"

"Quintessentially, yes," Darui replies.

"So..." I begin to ask. "Why do you want me anyways?"

"Let me explain," Darui continues. "Shamans carry a great amount of powers. In fact, a master shaman could probably defeat a small army without being injured. In this sense, shamans are a kind of living artillery for the state of Chinaka. This facility is used for training shamans, so that they learn to harness their spiritual power."  
  
"So I'm some kind of magical super-soldier?" I ask, tilting my head. The absurdity of the conversation was now beneath me, and I was taking it seriously just for fun.

"Yes, you could say that," Darui chuckles. "However, there is a far more urgent purpose now. The Shaman Fight is fast approaching."

"Shaman Fight?" I ask curiously. "Weren't we going to fight in the first place."

"Allow me to explain," Darui says calmly. "Every 500 years, the great comet Ketu shoots through the skies. Hiding in it's shadows is Rahu, the Destroy, which threatens to destroy the earth. Thus, every five centuries, the greatest shaman in the world, aided by the Great Spirit, defeats Rahu and saves the world.

"Once Ketu first appears in the sky, a great tournament between all shamans in the world occurs. The one who emerges victorious becomes the Shaman King, and he or she is the one who must save the world. But the Shaman King carries a great amount of power as well as responsibility. Thus, every empire-state is trying to train the best shamans, so that they can have the world of shamans at their feet."

I whistle, impressed. "This is all a bit much."

"Don't worry," Darui says lightly. "You really should get some sleep. Go ahead and sleep on it. It's a big deal to anybody who grew up being told that magic wasn't real and ghosts were just stories. Which is just about everyone."

"Okay," I respond dully. I stand up on shaky legs, then turn to look at Darui. "Er...where do I sleep."  
  
Darui chuckles. "Hmm...let's see." A prog image pops up in mid-air, depicting the building's floor plans. The technological display seems strangely out of place here. "Ah, it looks like there's a spare bed in dorm room 134. You can head there." "Okay," I start to head out of the room, then turn to look back. "Thanks, sir."  
  
"No problem," the tall man responds heartily. "And please, don't call me sir. Darui, or if you must, 'chief.'"

I awake in darkness. Shaking my head to clear it, I vaguely recall reaching this room and stumbling into bed last night. It's pitch black, but there must be a little light filtering in from somewhere my eyes begin to slowly adjust to the darkness. Sitting up, I realize that I have to go to the washroom.

Groping my way to some kind of an opening, I find the bathroom door. I find and flip a switch easily. The burst of fluorescent light startles my darkened world, and I throw my arms up to shield my face. After a second, the spots in my eyes mostly disappear and I enter the washroom.

While relieving myself, I take a look around. It looks like a fairly utilitarian place, with a porcelain toilet and sink, a white light, and a small shower stall. As I take a drink of water and prepare to return to bed, I notice a small holo image on the desk. I peer at it, and a pretty young girl with her black hair in pigtails smiles back at me. Wondering who the image is of, I turn away and head out.

Before turning out the light and being immersed in total darkness once again, I take a moment to sweep my eyes over my new home. It seems to be a regular dorm room, with a discshelf and a prog viewer. A large chest of drawers lies against the far wall with a clock reading 2:26, and lined up against the wall are two beds: one empty, one full.

I rub my eyes as I peer at the second bed. A ghostly figure hovers over it, legs crossed and apparently meditating. He looks European and has a bald head, a relatively scrawny body, and plain hemp robes. A boy about my age lies in the bed, sleeping, but I can't see the details of him. __

_"Hello," _the ghost speaks softly, startling me. His chilling blue eyes are now open, staring at me unwaveringly.

"Er...hi," I say, trying to be casual as I flip off the bathroom light. My vision is plunged into darkness, but I can still make out the presence of the ghost somewhat. "I'm new here," I practically whisper.

The unearthly figure smiles, and unfolds his legs. _"We all were at some time. I'm Torrus."_

"Natsume," I introduce myself, finding my way back to my bed. "Not to bother you, but er...what are you doing?"

Torrus chuckles, a low, melancholy sound. _"I am the ghost companion of Lu Han Chang, this boy," _he motions towards the one sleeping at his feet.

"Wow," I say as I slip under the covers. "So he's one of these shamans?"

_"Aren't you?" _Torrus asks quizzically.

"I guess I am," I respond, blinking.

_"Don't worry," _Torrus chuckles. _"It was a bit overwhelming for Lu Han at first too." _I make a mental note to hit the next person to tell me it's all a bit overwhelming at first...that is, assuming they're corporeal.

I blink, suddenly realizing something. "Hey, I'm actually having a conversation with a ghost. I mean, I've gotten past the whole ghost concept, but most of the ghosts I've run into have just murmured something about choosing them."

_"__Ah, petitioners," _Torrus responds knowingly. _"They all want to be your ghost companion, like I am for Lu Han. But don't worry. The department will find you a ghost that you can fight alongside soon enough."_

Not feeling particularly reassured, I lie my head down on the pillow. A few minutes later, I'm sound asleep.

To Be Continued....

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Author's Notes: 

Sorry for not updating sooner, but I kind of got blocked. As it is, it took my computer crashing for me to remember this story. 

On Chinaka and empire-states: After a period of great war, most of the world's nations have been solidified into empire-states. Some semblance of nationality remains, although most of the imperial authority is trying to correct that. Although they are technically at peace, it is hard to travel between empire-states and there is general harsh feeling between them. Chinaka is the main Asian empire-state, consisting of most of eastern Asia (just about everything east of India, including Japan) and some of Oceania. Other empire-states include the American Empire (North America, Australia and parts of the middle east), the European Union (duh, Europe), the New Soviet Empire (Russia, eastern Europe, and Siberia), the Hassan Kingdom (some of the Middle East and Africa), and the South American alliance (obviously, South America.) India and some African countries are neutral, mercenary states. 

I really should start a web site about all this stuff. :p 

Also, although I was planning to use dub terms in this fic, I have decided to use the original manga terms (according to Shonen Jump, at least. waves SJ flag) It's probably just because I like 'mana' a whole lot better than 'furioku'. The original concern with manga terms was that I might not know the term for something later on in the story, but judging at the pace I'm writing, that shouldn't be a problem. 

Comments? Suggestions? Please review!


	3. In The Army Now

A sharp beeping rudely awakens me. I turn over in bed, moan, and wave my arms around, trying to find something to smash. Eventually, I open my eyes. It's not that I'm that tired, my body is just objecting to the general principle of getting up so early. 

In the bed next to me, another boy is rising. Torrus, the ghost I met last night, stands by him vigilantly. Turning to me, he blinks, surprised. "New kid?" 

I roll out of bed, crashing to the ground below somewhat painfully. "Yeah," I mumble. I realise that I am still dressed in the same clothes from the day before, a plain white T-shirt and jeans. 

"No problem," my new roomate says as he helps me to my feet. He's a couple of centimetres shorter than me, and looks to be of Korean descent. He has brown hair in a buzz cut, and strangely piercing green eyes. "I'm Lu Han."  
  
"Natsume," I respond back. Sometime during the exchange, the shrill beep stopped. I glance over at the wall clock, which is displaying the time in bright red letters. "What the hell kind of time is 7:00 to wake up?" 

Lu Han laughs. "That's what everyone says at first. But you get used to it. Curfew is at 10:30, so we're technically getting enough sleep. Doesn't feel like it, though." 

"So they're really all military around here, aren't they?" I ask rhetorically, sitting back down on my bed. 

"Yeah," Lu Han says distantly. Seeming to snap back to reality, he says "Come on, I'll show you around. But first...get changed, please. You stink." 

I blush, then laugh. This could just work out after all. 

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Shaman King 2498 

Chapter 3:In the Army Now 

A fanfiction by Amor 

Disclaimer:Shaman King is owned by Hiroyuki Takei and a bunch of other people, which don't include me. The setting and characters are my own, however. 

This story is rated PG-13:May not be appropriate for children under 13 years of age. This chapter contains mild violence and a bit of cussing. Future chapters may contain more graphic violence, sexuality and shonen-ai. 

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As we wander around the myriad corridors of the building, Lu Han explains the living situation to me. "You get those three sets of clothes for free. Dump them in the laundry at the end of the day, and they should get done soon. We get three square a day, and two hundred yanu [1] a week if you want anything else. Got that all?" 

"I think so," I say, shaking my head. The clothes I found in my drawer were three sets of the same outfit--a pair of slacks and a light shirt, both red. I am vaguely aware of Torrus following behind us at a short distance. "What do you guys _do _here, anyways?" 

"Train, mostly," Lu Han responds evenly. "You'll probably start basic training with your ghost when they find one for you. Sometimes they set up mock shaman fights to give us 'combat experience'. I got a pretty nasty cut from one once." 

"Really?" I ask. My stomache turns--I've never liked the sight of blood very much. 

"Yeah," Lu Han says casually. "Just across my stomache. We're really not supposed to hurt each other during the fights, but some fighting styles can't be restrained." 

Our conversation ends abruptly as we enter the mess hall. The long hall consisted of several tables and a cafeteria-style serving area jammed against the far wall. There are at least a hundred people here, and--my stomache turns--almost as many ghosts. 

"A bit creepy, I know," Lu Han says, snapping me out of my gawking. "Come on, let's get some food." 

We walk around to the serving area. Knowing what to do from school, I grab a flexeron [2] tray and take my place in line. Too intimidated with my surroundings to strike up a conversation, I simply follow Lu Han. 

I hold out my tray, and a slab of meat flops down on it. I notice the grey hand attached to the serving spoon, and look up. The server is a tall, humanoid creature with ash-gray skin and a blank expression. I notice a rune-enscribed piece of parchment on his forehead. 

Feeling slightly queasy, I glance around and see that the rest of the staff is made up of similar creatures. Mentally instructing myself not to stare, I move along, keeping my eyes on the ground. Similar creatures serve me a glass of milk and some noodles. I turn away, numbly following Lu Han. 

He turns back to me, smiling. "I wish I could say I know what you're going through, but I don't. My family has been shamans as far back as anyone could remember, so I grew up knowing this stuff." 

I shrug. "It's okay. I mean, I'm sure I'll get used to it eventually." I notice Torrus flanking him. "So, when do you think I'll get one of those ghost guys?" 

"About a day or so," Lu Han responds as we continue wallking. I blink as a small child runs past me, ducking under a nearby table. She's clutching what appears to be a sheathed katana under her arm, and is being chased by a dark-haired Chinese boy. Lu Han continues as if nothing had happened. "They pick a ghost that suits your personality and attributes. I personally can handle a lot of mana at once, but don't have much stamina, so they gave me Torrus, which can use his power in a lot of different ways and in large increments." 

We sit down at a broad wooden table, in plastic seats, across from a blonde-haired girl who looks to be of Jovan [3] descent and a taller girl with dark purple hair. The blonde is wearing a black tank top and jean shorts, and werars two silver rings on her fingers. Curiously, she doesn't appear to have any spiritual companion around. "Hey, Janna," Lu Han says casually as he begins to eat his meat. 

Janna, the blonde who appears to be busy swallowing her noodles whole, merely nods in greeting. The purple-haired girl has no such inhibitions, but is still silent. She seems to be wearing more or less my uniform, except with a skirt instead of pants. I notice that a grey-skinned figure similar to those serving food stands behind her. This one, however, is wearing grey military fatigues and carries a large machine gun. I eye it nervously. 

"Oh, don't worry about Konomi," the purple-haired girl finally speaks. "He's harmless. Mostly." 

I sweat-drop. "That doesn't really reassure me." 

"Come on, Shi," Janna says, elbowing her. "Don't scare the new guy!" 

Shi smiles. "I was just stating facts. He's really not that dangerous. The gun's not even loaded. Certainly nothing more dangerous than some of the guys around here."   
  
"Ah," Lu Han says, putting down his meal. "I forgot to introduce you. This is Janna Starfire--at least she _says _that's her last name--and this is Shiruna Xing. The _jiang-si_--that's what those zombie guys are called--is Konomi. Girls, this is Natsume. He's my new roommate." 

"Hello," Shiruna said, but got back to eating. 

"Hey," Janna says, between sips of her milk. "So, what do you think of CIASOSM so far?" 

"Uh...strange," I admit cautiously, finally starting my meal by cutting off a piece of meat and chewing it. "But the people seem to be nice so far." 

"Well, I guess you could say that," Janna said, a smirk on her face as she finished her milk and leaned back. "Most of the jerks here seem to be of the 'brooding loner' type instead of the 'bully' type, so you should be pretty safe." 

"So Lu Han," Shiruna, or Shi, whatever you want to call her said. "Is Natsume going to be coming along with us to see that Ogaro sim on Friday?" 

"Ogara?" My eyes light up at the mention of my favourite samurai franchise. "I'd love to! That is...if you don't mind."   
  
"Nah, we're fine with it," Lu Han says as he finishes his meal. "Well, I guess we'd better get down to business. I've got a match set up with Gorin this afternoon. Want to spar, Janna?" 

The blonde girl's eyes light up. "You're on!" The two race away, Torrus following slowly. 

Shi gets up and smiles at me. "The training gym's over that way. The garden's out through those doors. Other than that, you can go around and socialize. Just try to stay out of that guy who's chasing the little girl around's way." I sweat-drop again at the black-haired Chinese boy running around the cafeteria, waving his sheathed katana angrily. 

I walk into the gym, and am stunned. Several people, some of them much older or younger than myself, are doing traditional stretching and excersizing. Others sit in meditation, spirit flames lighting up around them. Still others "spar", energy blazing between them as they attack each other furiously. 

I don't have a spirit or weapon to fight with, and I have no clue how to do the shamanic-seeming things, so I decide to work out. I was never much of a big guy--I'm average height, and quite skinny. Well, if we're going to be fighting I might as well be a bit stronger. 

After spending about an hour in the weight room, I notice someone shouting over in the large main gym. Curious, I decidce to take a break. The gymnasium is large, about the size of a typical Impeiral Championships stadium, and undecorated except for a stripe of red around the middle. A large circle is painted in the middle, and it is inside this circle where people seem to be focusing. 

There are three figures there. One is Darui, dressed in the same formal clothes than I saw him in yesterday. Lu Han also stands, dressed in the same leather vest over a white shirt. The third figure is a tall and muscular man, who looks to be about eighteen. I see Torrus gaurding over Lu Han closely, as does a dark-skinned spirit wearing a boxing outfit over the unknown man. 

"This training match is between Lu Han Chang and Kizuna Gorin," Darui announced, loudly but calmly. "The first one to lose integration, give up, or be forced out of the ring loses. The use of bladed weapons or lethal force is strictly forbidden. Ready?" Both competitors nod, as do their spirits. "Begin!" 

Lu Han snaps his hand up. "Torrus, spirit ball mode!" In a puff of ghostly smoke, Torrus becomes a bluish orb. I can make out his calm face, but his lower body features are gone. "Integrate!" The Korean boy arcs his body and pushes the spirit ball into his stomache. The spiritual energy expands and spreads out into his body, and I can see the spirits of Lu Han and Torrus mixed together confusingly. Is this how shamans fought with their spirits? 

On the other side of the ring, I see Gorin and his spirit have similarly integrated. They circle around the ring, waiting for the other one to move. Gorin has his fists up, like a boxer, while Lu Han looks almost peaceful. 

Finally, one moves. Gorin jumps forward, and I notice his spiritual energy gathering in his right fist. He lets out a bestial cry as Lu Han simply stands, watching him. **"Hammer...PUNCH!" **Gorin cries, and I momentairly reel from two voices--one physical, one spiritual--shouted at once. He throws his fist down at Lu Han, who suddenly slides out of the way expertly. Gorin's fist connects with the cement, letting out a shockwave and forming a small crater in the ground. 

I whistle appreciatively. "Damn..." 

Lu Han (although it seemed like Torrus was in control now) was now facing Gorin's back, and let lose with three knife-hands to the back. It seemed to do little damage to the muscular shaman, however. Gorin spun around with a right hook, but Lu Han danced backwards, evading the blow. 

Gorin followed up with an unrelenting series of jabs at his opponent's face. However, Lu Han managed to evade each one with surprising calmness. So far he's the only one who's landed a hit, but he seems to be outclassed in the power department--and he can't dodge forever. Besides, Gorin is forcing him towards the other side of the ring. **"Stand still and let me hit you!" **he cries in frustration. 

**"Now why would I want to do that?" **Lu Han/Torrus mocks, their tone more smart-assed than seems prudent. For their trouble, Gorin finally manages to get a blow through on the Korean boy's chin. Lu Han goes flying due to even the weak punch's sheer force, and lands with his head outside the ring. Darui signals for the match to keep going, however. 

As Lu Han gets up, gripping his bald and bruised head, the black-haired Gorin rushes him with a war cry. Looking at the charging shaman calculatingly, Lu Han shifts to a squating position but doesn't seem to move. 

Gorin reaches Lu Han and swings his fist downwardly, going for a finishing blow. However, the younger shaman rolls right through the larger man's legs, before springing up and spinning around to face Gorin's back. Lu Han capitalizes on his opponent's surprise by gripping his hands together in a bowl shape. I see spiritual energy gather. 

**"Mercurial Arrow," **Lu Han/Torrus says matter-of-factly, and a blue, arrow-shaped ray of energy errupts from his palms. The arrow's power, combined with Gorin's unspent momentum, sends him flying outside the ring and into a couple of onlooker's hands. I notice that his skin has also turned an eerie shade of blue. 

Darui holds up Lu Han's right arm, as Torrus quietly leaves his body. "And the winner is...Lu Han!" The surrounding crowd claps loudly, and I see Gorin scowl. Janna, who was at ringside all this time, lets out a cheer. 

Feeling suddenly very inadequate, I turn to leave. 

The garden, if you can call it that, is peaceful at least. There seemed to be several people meditating, and a couple of nature spirits wandering around, but I found a quiet space eventually. I have a tendancy to seek out places like this whenever I feel sad or contemplative. There's just something about the sun, the running river, and the wind in the trees that make me feel at home.

Of course, it's all fake. We're about a hundred metres underground. The sun is only a bright light in a dome above, the grass is made of some kind of synthetic fiber, and the river goes around in a cycle and is probably clean enough to drink. But still, for an imitation, it's pretty good.

"Hey," somebody says behind them. I quietly ignore them, not wanting company, but they sit down next to me anyways. I look over at him. He's a couple centimetres shorter than me, with dark brown hair that goes down to shoulder level. He sees to be wearing some kind of traditional religous garb, but I really have no idea where it's from [4] and I don't care.

"Hi," I say reluctantly.

"You're new around here, right?" he asks softly.

"Yeah," I respond. Is it really that obvious? "I'm Natsume."

He nods in recognition, and I see something in his green eyes. "I'm Soun. What brings you here?"

"Oh, not much," I admit. "I just got tired of training after I saw Lu Han over there kick that other guy's ass."

"Gorin?" He laughs. "Really, it's not very hard to do. He's strong, but a bit too predictable."

"See what I mean!" I practically yell, throwing my hands up. "It's like everyone around here is so powerful, a guy who can put holes in the floor with a single punch is considered weak!"

His face is dark again. "Yes...but you've just been here for a day or so. I'm old school comparatively, and I still probably couldn't stand up against you."

I turn my head. "Well, based on that robe, I'd say that you're one of those people who've been trained from birth to do this."

"Yes and no," Soun sighs. "I have been training for a long time...but I'm not a fighting shaman. I was raised as a Shinto priest. I just call up ghosts and stuff."

"So..." I start to say, a picture forming in my mind.

"Yes," he says flatly. "We've got your ghost ready. Come on."

To be continued...

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Setting References:

[1]Yanu are the official currency of Chinaka. One yanu is about nine yen, or nine cents.

[2]Flexeron is an advanced material which is fairly tough but flexible. There are two kinds: the more flexible kind, used for more mundane uses like trays or containers; and the tougher kind, used for armour and protection.

[3]Driven onward by the space race, humans have colonized most of the other planets thanks to terraforming and various commodities. Jupiter is the most heavily disputed; with Chinaka (who has the most territory), the American Empire and the Mojal Dynasty all claiming territory. The Jovan people tends to be hardy but also quite mercenary.

[4]Religion hardly exists on earth, and is taught in much the same way mythology is taught today. Natsume didn't pay much attention during these lessons, apparently. There are isolated pockets of more religious people, however, mostly on the other planets. The only empire which uses religion widespread is the Mojal Dynasty, which uses a hybrid of African beliefs and Islam altered to make their ruler almost godlike in the eyes of the people.

Author's Notes:  
  
Yes, I'm evil. Luckily, it's summer, so I have more time to do writing. So, you might not have to wait another two months to meet Natsume's ghost. Maybe. If this chapter seems a bit scattered, it's because I originally felt that I didn't have much happening in here. In the end, it came out longer than either of the previous two chapters.

Review Responses:

Rainyday0991--Thanks! I toyed with the idea of making Yoh his ghost, but he really doesn't seem like the type to linger on for 500 years. Plus I'm not entirely sure how a ghost shaman would work. As for the black-haired girl, she's just a minor plot point, pay her no heed.

Hannah--Thanks as well. I realized that the ghost was one of the main points of interest this early in the story, so I figured I had to hold out on you guys as long as possible, right?

Sasuke-san--Thanks for the review. Oh, and just so you know, Natsume's a guy. :p

Chapter 2 seems to be having some trouble formatting. I tried to fix the problem, but I'm not sure if it worked.

Suggestions? Comments? Please review!


	4. Companion

I follow Soun through the labyrinthine corridors, having to sprint just to keep up with him. He's surprisingly fast, for someone of small stature, though I suppose it lies in a kind of natural gracehe doesn't even pause to think as he leads me down this rabbit hole. 

And down we are going, through several flights of stairs and more iron doors. The cheery facade of the park has quickly become the dull reality of these dungeon-like passageways. Soun flips open another door and takes the stairs two at a time. I have to focus my efforts on not falling head over heels as I try to match his pace. 

Why is he going so fast anyway? Is this some kind of 'initiation'? Maybe he's just in a hurry? 

"We're here," the brown-haired boy says in monotone. I nearly trip over my own feet as I attempt to come to a complete stop. The area we're in now is clearly deep underground, and there's even something sloshing around in my eardrums as a sign of the altitude change. This place seems to be mostly used for storage, with several wooden crates stacked in quarter-pyramids against the walls, gathering dust. 

I raise my foot, but then notice that Soun isn't moving and put it back down in the same place. He stands there in the doorway, his posture passive and his expression unchanging. What's he waiting for. I notice that the room before us is pitch-black, deprived of even the dull lighting the overhead lamps give us. 

The room before us lights up, with pale illumination spaced every two metres. Soun steps in, and I can see that the room is a complete change from before: it looks like something out of a historical simor fantasy, with the skull-trimmed altar and the spell circle on the ground. As I walk in I see that the lights aren't electric but etherealsimple spirits, letting their dim light shine throughout the room. 

"Welcome, Soun, Natsume," says Darui, standing behind the altar. I smile weakly at him. Where had he come from, anywise? Soun deems not to respond, and walks into the hollow centre of the spell circle, managing not to step on any of the dust scattered in arcane patterns. Not knowing what else to do, I bow down in front of it. 

"You know," Darui says, with a small laugh and a tinge of nostalgia in his voice. "In the old days and in some parts of the world today shamans didn't have partners assigned. It was their job to find ghosts that would take _them_ on. Some didn't even know about the Shaman Fight until they encountered their fight officiate." 

I try to crack a smile, but am too nervous. It feels a bit as though something is grasping at the insides of my stomach. I promptly become nauseous at my own imagery. 

"Can we get this over with?" Soun snarked, now sitting cross-legged. 

"Fine," Darui sighed, taking on a tone that signalled official business. "Do you, Natsume Takenouchi, as a citizen of Chinaka, agree to live by the codes of the Chinaka Shamanic Training Institute, and use this ghost only in accordance with the wishes of our government." 

"Yes," I croak out. Of course, I haven't read the codes, but I don't really know what other option I have than to assent. 

Taking an unseen signal, Soun produces a long string of prayer beads. He hums melodically, and the beads begin to shake in harmony. Spirit flames light up all around him, and the spell circle begins to glow. I have the sense of being on the verge of something huge, it's shadow creating an imprint in my mind. 

He begins speaking. _"One I place for my father. Two I place for my mother. Three I place for my brothers back home." _His words seem to resonate in time with the world's rhythmthe spirit lights dance in tune. I can feel myself drawn into his somatic web, becoming closer and closer to the spirit world. 

_"Here I offer my flesh to aid your soul's release." _Soun tosses his prayer beads in an arc, looping around before his face. _"Hear my voice at world's end and arise." _The spirit flames dance more passionately now, and I can feel my heart beat rapidly as the spirit world approaches. _"Hear the sounds of my prayer beads and draw nigh."_

The world pulses quicker, causing me to tremble. Everything seems to be swimming in place, and the tempo has become rapid pandemonium. _"Ghost of Ruhk! Let the dead take flesh!" _ The spirit flames explode in front of me, momentarily blinding me. 

Shaman King 2498 

Chapter 4:Companion 

A fanfiction by Amor 

Disclaimer:Shaman King is owned by Hiroyuki Takei and a bunch of other people, which don't include me. The setting and characters are my own, however. 

This story is rated PG-13:May not be appropriate for children under 13 years of age. This chapter contains graphic violence and bad language. Future chapters may also contain sexuality and shonen-ai. 

I recover my eyesight after about a minute. The room is now dark again, the light spirits mere torches, but I can still see the spirit in front of me. He has black hair and is clearly of African descent. The spirit is naked from the waist up, so I can see that he is quite muscular, if a bit dirty. The brown-eyed man's only articles of clothing are an animal hide cloth, draped around his waist and a sharp spear strapped to his back. In his left hand he carries a simple-looking shield. 

_"You're my vessel?" _he asks, clearly unimpressed. 

"Er... yeah," I respond. Was that what I was called, now that I had a spirit? 

"Natsume, meet Rukh, a Zulu warrior of seven hundred years ago," Darui introduces. "Rukh, meet Natsume Takenouchi, your shaman." 

Rukh looks me up and down, and I step away, uncertain. "Kind of scrawny, eh? But that's what all of your kind are now. Never should have came over her... but what's done is done." I am slightly confused at his speech, but decide not to mention it. "Good to see that we're taking up the torch again." 

"Yeah, whatever," Soun says caustically, and I glance at him a bit edgily. He seems to be treating this as a business transaction, and I am still confused. A whirlwind of questions enter my head: Who is this Rukh? What do I do now? Why am I participating in this 'Shaman Fight' anywise? And what does a shaman _do_, exactly? 

But I don't ask any of these questions. A bit shaken, I get up. I notice that the sign on the ground has disappeared. "Th-thank you," I stutter. 

Darui smiles at me deeply. "You are welcome, Natsume. I hope your shamanic journey is a smooth one." 

Soun guides me out, taking me up through the regular passages. His temperament seems no different than before. I wonder what's up with him. I mean, is he trying to be cool? Or does he honestly not care. That's a problem around hereI just can't figure anyone out. 

Rukh speaks, in a deep, gravely voice. _"Shamanic journey, my ass. It's just a war, and I'd like it done with as soon as possible._" 

"A war?" I asked. "Is that what they mean by Shaman Fight?" 

_"I suppose,"_ said Rukh. _"These Japanese are as bad as the Brits when it comes to their titles and pseudonyms. But I suppose I'll take what I can get against the English dogs."_

"Wait, England?" I asked, now thoroughly confused. "Soun, are we attacking the EU or something? Is that the real purpose of this shaman thing?" 

"No," the brown-haired boy simply replied. "Your spirit is just an idiot." 

_"What did you say?" _Rukh exclaimed, holding his spectral spear to the back of Soun's head. The itako shivered, but didn't respond, marching ahead. 

"Look, we're not going to war with Britain," I say to my ghost, a bit irritated. It feels that life is just throwing me one curve ball after another, and it's starting to get to me. "You're here to be my spirit ally." 

_"Listen here, twerps!" _Rukh yells. _"I lingered around for six hundred years so that I could return to punish the British devils for invading our land and reducing our people to misery! I'm not about togaack!"_

Halfway through the speech, Soun casually tossed his bead strings along Rukh's neck and threw him to the ground. The ghost seems to be bound by the corporeal chain, though he's struggling. _"You can't do this to me! I'm Impi!"_

"Well then, you'd better start acting like one," the brown-haired boy says . "This is your assignment! You are to make sure that your soul can integrate freely into this boy, and that he can use your power to the greatest extent possible. Teach him your traditions, if they mean so bloody much to you. And when he becomes Shaman King, then maybe you can get him to wipe the damn Brits off the map. But until then, you are ours. Understood?" 

A pink glow flows through the beads, and Rukh mutters something before nodding domestically. "Good," Soun says with a smirk, releasing the ghost. We continue walking through the underground passages of CIASOSM, Rukh now silent behind us. 

"Thanks," I say to the itako. 

"Don't thank me," he replies. "He was just getting annoying." 

"So, um..." I begin. "Do you really think I'll be the Shaman King?" 

"Nope. Probably that Asakura kid." A bit disheartened, I head to my quarters with my new ghost in tow. 

Three hours later, me and Rukh have reached an impasse. I think he's finally realized that his private war is not on the agenda, but he still refuses to help me in battle. I lie on my bunk now, trying to figure out something to dothere's a prog player, but it's been jury-rigged so that it won't work during the hours we're expected to train. I'm glad that I have the rest of the day off, as right now I don't feel like doing anything. 

The door swings open, and Lu Han comes in, smiling. "Hey Natsume. State of the world?" 

"Not good," I moan, rolling onto my side and propping myself up with my elbow. "I just got my partner, or spirit, or whatever the hell you guys call it." 

"Oh really," says Lu Han, sounding intrigued. He unbuttons his red uniform halfway, more casual now that our training day is over. "What's he like." 

"See for yourself," I remark, jerking my thumb in the general direction of where I had last seen Rukh. 

The Zulu warrior materializes in a puff of smoke, looking just as irritated as ever. _"So, you're one of the kid's friends? Eh... not much either. Oh well, I probably won't be sticking around this place much longer anyway."_

"We'll see," Lu Han says guardedly. "So, what's your name?" 

_"You tell me yours," _Rukh responds cautiously. It's at this point I notice something about him, or rather his nature: he acts like a warrior. His eyes are fierce and penetrating, and he speaks as though to the enemy. I notice that he has not set that shield down since I first saw him. 

"Lu Han," the boy responds simply. Torrus stands behind him, silent. 

_"Rukh," _the Impi introduces himself. _"Lu Han, huh? You Chinese?"_

"Korean, actually," says Lu Han. He pauses before moving in. "So, you said something about leaving. What's that about?" 

Rukh tenses up. _"I just want to get out of here. This is stupid. No offence, kid."_

"You can try," Lu Han says, the corners of his mouth turned up in a sly smile. "But I doubt it'll work. Soun can always call you back, and I doubt he'll be happy to have to go to the trouble. You'll probably get punished... quite a bit." 

The Zulu winces, and I can imagine what that guy could probably inflict on a spirit. It's strange how, even being about ten centimetres shorter than me, the guy still looks imposing as hell with those beads of his. 

_"All right," _Rukh relents. _"I'll stick around. But none of this shamanic stuff, okay? I figure you'll just fail the first shaman test or whatever, and we'll both get to go our merry ways. Sound good, Takenouchi?"_

"Fine," I mutter. To be honest, I'm thoroughly tired of all this shaman shit. Lu Han frowns, but declines to comment and simply leaves. 

A few more days pass, and my slackitude begins to weaken. I find myself in the training gym, lifting weights and learning some fighting from others. Darui even gave me a small gift to practice with: a spear and shield similar to what Rukh would have wielded. He appeared displeasured that I wasn't using my spirit, but again said nothing. That was almost as maddening as if he had openly lectured me, and I was getting it from everyone. 

Having grown bored again from the physical exercises, I am now attempting one of the spiritual ones that Darui told me about. I sit cross-legged on the gym floor, a leaf in front of me. My eyes are closed. I reach out with my soul, attempting to speak to the leaf's spirit. Nothing. My eyebrow twitches, wondering if everyone around me was playing some sort of practical joke. How could something as small and insignificant as a leaf help me anyway. 

Still, I press on, inflaming my spirit as I look deeper inside the leaf. An image appears in my minda complex shape, like a rose petal. My astral self slides deep into the shape, as if looking for something. And then it finds ita small leaf spirit. Somehow, it seems to be smiling. 

I pump my fist, and let go of my concentration. The spirit disappears, and my soul snaps back to my body. Feeling something akin to whiplash, I rub my head and stand up dizzily. 

"Hey," greets Lu Han. 

"Where did you come from?" I ask stupidly. 

He laughs cheerfully. "Well, I was just hanging around, practising a bit with Torrus." His guardian ghost, dressed in a toga, appears and bows to me. I feel a strange flash of jealousy, at Lu Han's relationship with his ghost. Well, no matter. I was more or less giving up on this whole shaman thing anyway. 

"So, anyway," he continues. "You know that sim we were planning to go out for on Friday night? Well, Shi said she couldn't make it. She's got a date or something like that." 

"Too bad," I say, though not reallyI don't know the purple-haired girl that well. "So, it'll be just the three of us?"

"Yeah," he responds awkwardly. 

"Sounds like fun." I am glad now, that I have something to look forward to, no matter how small it is. 

The week passes slowly. With Rukh still refusing to help, and me still not really giving a damn about training, there's not much I can do, but I am still forced to work for about nine hours a day. I'm in shape, sure, but it all seems like a colossal waste of time. 

Friday night comes at last, and for once there seems to be a general happiness about the place. In the dinner hall that night, shamans are chatting amicably as they scarf down their dinner, many getting ready for a night out just like we are. 

"So," I say. I'm still wearing my school uniform, as I lost most of my other clothes at the mental hospital. "What's this town like, anywise?" 

"Ikori?" asks Janna, who is now wearing a plain but nice-looking blue dress. "Well, it's a small cityas small as you can find down on Earth, anyway. Has all the typical stuffsim theatres, game dome, a good amount of bars..." She adds the last part with a sly smile. 

"Mostly peaceful place," says Lu Han as he joins us, spooking me a bit. He is dressed casually, wearing slacks and a black T-shirt with Korean characters on it. "To be honest, I'd be kind of worried to live there. We're told not to use our shaman powers there, but sometimes people get a little caught up in the moment, and there's been more than one impromptu shaman match." 

"No kidding," I mutter as the door opens, and the small stream of people heading to Ikori goes in. I notice that our spirits are accompanying usTorrus, Janna's animal spirits, and a reluctant Rukh. I feel suddenly very threatened, and realize that I had picked up the vibe much earlier than thisfor no palpable reason, I am carrying my spear. 

We get on a bullet train, heading up from CIASOSM directly to Ikori. The train is worked into the regular train system, so the average person is none the wiser. We can spread throughout the cars of the subway, and that's goodwhile waiting, the chatter was too loud for my tastes. For some reason, the training facility reminds me a lot of my high school. 

Finally, the train arrives, and we get off. It feels so strange to be in a regular city again. People push past me on the train, their lives completely free of the end of the world and spiritual nonsense. A flash of envy passes through me before I move automatically up the stairs into the crisp spring air. 

"You know, Natsume, you're going to have to get some actual clothes," Janna says, and I realize that the CIASOSM uniform is beginning to attract attention. And it's not the best thing at keeping you warm either. 

"Yeah," I reply with the slightest blush. "But after the sim ticket I hardly have any money left." 

"Well, I think I have some yanu stored up in the bank," Lu Han says whimsically, "from back when I first got here." 

"Then don't spend it," I say, in an attempt to dissuade him. "I don't really need the clothes, and I suppose if it really got to be a problem I could just save up my money for a bit. Besides, I don't really care if I'm getting stares." 

"Free spirit too, huh?" Janna asks with a grin. 

"Nah," I shrug. "It just seems like too much work." We laugh, and the other two continue to lead me to the theatre. 

The sim let out two hours later, the audience shuffling out of the theatres in a daze like after all holographic performances. The latest Ogara sim, Curse of the Black Swan, lived up to my expectations. It was a bit of a change of pacce from the Ogara prog series, but it was still nice. 

"So, what did everyone think of the movie?" asks Lu Han. I think he's trying to make conversation. 

"I liked it a lot," I gush. "That last batttle scene really had me on the edge of my seat, you know. 

Janna frowned. "I dunno, I didn't like it that much. Too many plot holes, and the thing felt really rushed." 

Lu Han shrugs. "I dunno, the movie was fine, but I liked the series better. Wouldn't it have been awesome if that one Muryomaru guy had shown up?" We are now walking into a skateboard park that seems to be deserted, though it's only around ten o'clock. Illegible graffiti covered the structure, and parts of it seem to be broken. We still had a couple of hours to kill, though I didn't have much money. 

Janna's hawk spirit appears out of nowhere, and I remember for the first time that the spirits are with us. It urgently nips at her ear, and she turns as if to face it. "What's wrong?" 

Torrus appears in front of us, holding his hands out defensively. _"There is danger approaching." _

I am frightened, before the man I remember as Goro steps out from the shadows. He is dressed like a thug and has a lopsided grin on his face. He is shortly followed by two people who I can only assume are his lackeysa hot blonde girl, wearing a tank top and shorts that cling to her bottom, and a big guy (whether fat or muscular I don't know) trying to hide some sort of very large weapon. 

"Oh, it's just you," mocks Lu Han. 

"Shut up!" Shouts Goro angrily. "I'm tired of you and your little geek friends making me look like an idiot." 

"Then why don't you get better?" Lu Han asks, shifting into a defensive stance. 

"All right, enough boasting!" Goro cries. "Us three against you retards, street style! We'll prove who's better." I wonder what "street style" is. 

"Fine," says Lu Han, as Torrus snaps into spirit ball form immediately. Goro and his two lackeys also integrate, and I look at Rukh forlornly. 

"Do you want to integrate?" I ask him. 

"Er... right," the Impi grunts. There's a puff of smoke, and a lot of groaning from his area. It seems to take a lot longer than the others, who are now already fighting. 

"Aoki, take that guy," Goro says, pointing to me. 

"All right," says the big chummishly. This Aoki, I notice again, is really big. Probably like twice my mass. And he's carrying a weapon which is... Well... 

It's a giant rock on a chain. And it's hurling right at me. 

I yell as I throw myself to the side, and his weapon sails through where I used to be. I quiver in terror as Aoki reels it back in, and for a moment I see the others fighting. Goro is trying to attack Lu Han unsuccessfully, and Janna and the other girl seem to be staring each other down but not doing anything. 

Aoki tosses the rock, and I dodge again. I've now forgotten integrating with Rukh and am now just running for my life. I see briefly the ghost of what looks to be a Mongolian barbarian over Goro's lackey, but I can't be sure. Fortunately, he doesn't seem to have good aim with his huge weapon. 

After about the fourth toss, I realize that I can't just sit around and wait for him to hit me. Instead, I snap up my spear and charge while he's reeling his rock back in. He looks up, a frightened gleam in his eye. I grin and... 

...miss. I try to jump away, but it's an easy shot even for him. The giant rock on a chain hits me point blank. 

_Ow. _Pain rushes through my body, stemming from my cracked forehead. Blood runs down my face, and almost falls into my eyes. I hear Aoki say "Hey, I actually hit someone!" 

Woozy, I stagger to my feet. "Oh, he's still conscious? Tough guy," Aoki says to himself. He raises his weapon for another swing. Can I dodge it this time? 

"Oh, for the love of..." Janna says. A blur whips past me, and the Jovan girl interposes herself between me and the large weapon. Just as it looks like both of us will be pavement, she rushes forward and grabs hold of the chain, pulling down to send it in a backwards arc. 

Aoki figured out too late where the end point of that arc would be. "Uh-oh," he muttered, before his own primitive weapon smacked him in the face, the blunt force knocking him down for the count. 

"Er... thanks," I say to Janna, who has now disengaged her spiritsa dolphin and a falcon. 

"No problem," she replies nonchalantly. "Anyway, we should probably get going. The fight's just about over." 

I look around and see that she's right. Besides the big guy laying at my feet, the blonde girl is also hunched over, moaning in pain, though I don't see any serious wounds on her. Lu Han and Goro are still going at it, though the latter's skin has turned blue from being hit with repeated Mercurial Arrows and is clearly almost out of energy. 

"All right!" Goro yells. "This is retarded! Come on, guys, we're going home." He walks over, and helps the blonde girl up. She leans on his shoulder in an intimate manner. Aoki, meanwhile, gets up and crawls after the two. 

"Skank," Janna says matter-of-factly. 

The three of us dust ourselves art and start walking backit's generally unanimous that we won't be hanging around any later, after an incident like that. As we walk, Lu Han is wincing and rubbing his shoulder. 

"You okay?" asks Janna, concerned. 

"Yeah, I'll be fine," responds Lu Han, trying to be tough. "Goro just connected with one of his punches. That guy may not be too bright, or not have much skill, but he's awfully strong." He then turns to me, seeing my full profile for the first time. "Oh jeez, Natsume! You're bleeding all over!" 

"Am I?" I ask. I realize that the burning pain in my forehead is still there, I just ignored it before. I bring a finger to my face, and then look at it. A drop of dark liquid runs down it. 

Janna grabs me, and sits me down on the ground. The concrete is hard, but I don't complain. She produces some powder from somewhere, and I notice that her hands are glowing with spirit energy_ mana_. She sprinkles the powder on my wound, and instantly a revitalizing surge flows through me. 

She looks over me once more, and reports "It's not bleeding, but it's still an open wound. We'll have to wait until we get back to the base to clean you up, and put some bandages on it." 

As I get up, I speak to Janna with a bit of wonder in my voice. "What was that? Are you a doctor or something?" 

She shrugs modestly. "No, I just learned spirit healing back when I was young. Healing is a lot easier when you acknowledge and learn how to use the soul." 

A couple days later, I am released from the infirmary. The wound was a bit infected, but it's mostly gone now. I return to my quarters, a bit defeated. Yesterday, I asked Darui if I could leave the place and stop being a shaman. The answer was a resounding "No." 

_"Hey," _says Rukh, materializing beside me for the first time since that night. I notice he's adopted a more colloquial manner of speech. 

"Mmm," I acknowledge him. 

"_Say... I'm sorry I let you get hurt out there," _he says, shuffling his astral feet. 

"Not your fault," I reply shortly. I don't feel much like talking today. 

_"Well, it looks like they won't let me go anytime soon either," _he replies with a sigh. _"So, listen, I was wondering... if maybe we could give this whole shaman and ghost thing a shot."_

I look at him, feeling a mix of emotions. He seems to back away. "Well, I suppose so. I've got nothing better to do. Why?" 

He grins. _"It was just I was watching you fight the other day, and the way you used that spear is practically an insult!"_

"All right, well then, how do you use it then?" 

_"Well, you really have to use the shield along with it for maximum use. But for starters, you should hold it upwards, like this..."_

To be continued... 

Author's Notes: 

It's done! Yays! 

Sorry about the delay, but I was working on other fics, and my computer crashed multiple times. It's all right, at this pace, I could be able to finish this fic by the 22nd century! (I kid you not... I've planned some of it out, and it's looking pretty huge now.) 

As a side note, if you didn't figure it out, a sim is a holographic display similar to a movie. A prog is the TV equivalent. 

And that's all. Hopefully I see you sooner rather than later. 


	5. First Blood

Step, shield, hook, thrust. Step, shield, hook, thrust. Step, shield, hook, thrust. Step, shield, hook, thrust...

So passes my time. Rukh is taking a slightly different approach then I imagined: he's teaching me the basics of his spear fighting technique. His theory was that I needed to learn how to fight if I was ever going to be able to integrate with me properly. I personally find the decorative spear to be unwieldy with one hand, and am uncomfortable using the heavy oak shield with the other. But beggars can't be choosers, so I keep training.

I used to watch the mock shaman fight matches, or try to summon up some minor spirit, but now my training days are dedicated to the never-ending pattern of step, shield, hook, thrust. The cornerstone of Impi tactics, its purpose was to catch the enemy's weapon or shield with your shield and impale them as they were unable to counter. I have my doubts about its actual effectiveness, but I don't voice them.

_"You're not doing this right at all!"_ Rukh proclaims wearily, slapping his forehead. _"You're too slow with the shield, and you'll never get the enemy with your spear if you're holding it like that."_

"Well excuse me," I snap back, feeling a sudden well of anger build up. "I don't quite have the arm strength to carry these two heavy weapons and dance around and hit forward perfectly after a week of training."

_"Bah,"_ the ghost moans. _"Children today have no muscle. Too much junk, too little meat."_

I toss my weapons aside, causing Rukh to fly into a near panic. I'm tired of his moaning and bossing me around. "Well maybe you should do something instead of just yelling! Why don't we try integration! This is the Shaman Fight, not the crappy-African-spear-shield-pattern fight!"

Rukh's face turns red in anger. _"Boy! How do you expect to be useful to me if you don't even know how to fight! I might as well just possess some schmuck to get my goals done!"_

"Your goals?" I yell back. "I'm the shaman here, you're the ghost! You don't have goals! You already lived, and got killed! Now it's my turn, and you're the one who's going to help me!"

I exhale, my voice beginning to grow hoarse from yelling. Rukh mutters a curse and turns into spirit ball form, then flies away. I glance around angrily, ready to tell off anyone gaping at our little spat. Damn savage, still holding a grudge after all these years... he didn't understand... To my surprise, no one was watching our shouting match. I blush for some reason, and I wonder if this is commonplace. Then I see what they're watching... one of the mock fights.

A loud boom echoes through the gym, suddenly. I clutch my ears, and then wondered what happened. That... had sounded like a gunshot. I knew there were quite a few shamans who used guns as weapons, but the prospect of fighting them still made me kind of uneasy. I hurry to the crowd, to see what happened.

It's worse than I imagined. Laying at the edge of the circle is the young (she can't have been more than ten years old) brown haired girl I'd seen around here before, a yo-yo laying beside her, unnoticed. Her small body is mostly unhurt, however there is a small but bloody hole in her chest. The girl is screaming in pain, and rocking her body back and forth. A tengu 1, presumably her spirit, floats nearby, trying to ease her pain to no avail. The high-pitched shouts and the crowd are beginning to give me a headache, but I stand and stare in a perverse stupor.

Who did this? I tear my eyes away to look at the rest of the circle. Darui is standing there, looking displeased and a bit angry, but reluctantly raises his hand. "Yukito Asakura is the winner." The young man near nods emotionlessly.

I level a glare at the shaman, but he doesn't seem to recognize it. He has shoulder length brown hair and pale green eyes which don't seem to see anything. He is wearing the CIASOSM uniform, but it seems to be more clean and neat than most people's. In his right hand, this Yukito is holding a dangerous looking rifle. I notice an intense spiritual energy around the gun, as if a ghost is actually gripping the weapon.

"Her spinal cord's severed," he speaks softly. "The usual." He turns to walk away, and the crowd seems to part despite the angry looks... except for one.

"You bastard!" Janna cries, and I wince in fear for the blonde. "How could you do that to a little girl like her? You know that she won't be able to walk again, just like all the other shamans you've fought!"

"She was my enemy," says Yukito distantly. "I did what I had to so that I could defeat her."

Janna fumes. "She hadn't even integrated yet! You're not strong, like they all say. You're just a coward!"

Yukito chuckles, and raises his gun to Janna's eye level. "I shot her in the spine," he says in a soft, yet threatening voice. "I could have shot her in the head. I could have killed her. I could kill you right now."

Janna stares down the barrel of the rifle for a few seconds, and I think she's evaluating her chances if she fought this guy. Finally deciding that it wasn't worth it, she pivots on her heel and stomps away in rage.

* * *

Shaman King 2498  
A fanfiction by Amor  
Chapter 5:First Blood

Disclaimer:Shaman King belongs to Hiroyuki Takei, Shueisha, Viz, and others. I neither own it, nor have the owners' consent. This chapter contains graphic violence and swearing. (The above scene is about as far as it gets.) Later chapters may contain sexuality and shounen-ai/shoujo-ai.

* * *

The dragon loomed up in front of us, a large scaly red beast. I winced as the end boss struck first, slamming his head down into the ground with flying daggers of teeth leaping up wildly into my face. I manage to jump back, being relatively unencumbered, but the dragon's hot (and smelly) breath makes me nauseous. Lu Han rushes in to fill my place in line, slashing the dragon along the neck with his broadsword. No blood flows out of it-- there's just a ripple and a white floating '131' popping up out of the wound.

I call over the third member of our party, Leiara, a cleric, and instruct her to heal the wounds I had accumulated from earlier in the battle. Leiara is an NPC, as no one really likes playing the healer. As she does so, I ready my own spell. Let's see... it's a red dragon, which means a fire element... so... "Blizzara!" I cry out. Chunks of ice fly up on a gust of freezing wind at the dragon, who moans and apparently takes 203 damage.

The dragon lunges again, and strikes Lu Han. His image warps too, and takes 89 damage. The Korean grunts in pain, even dulled as it is, but then slashes again as I cast a lower level ice spell. Over the next several minutes, we whittle the dragon down, with it taking a good chunk out of our HP as well, but Leiara heals a lot of it away. Eventually, we're exhausted, but we get an intuitive sense that the dragon is close to death.

The dragon rears up its mighty head, and a puff of flame smokes out. The dragon then flaps its wings, as if trying to flee from the cavern, but really just getting a superior angle before shooting a veritable explosion out of his mouth. "SUPER FIREBALL!" the deep voice of the game announcer cries as it roasts me mildly. Pain, on the "dull" setting, strikes me all over, until the tinge that signifies that I've hit zero HP.

Though my game status is technically KOed, I am still conscious as I fall to my knees. Our party has not been defeated yet because the other two members are still drawing breath, if looking a bit beat up. But that could work in our favour. Lu Han raises his sword, now glowing with energy. "Nice try," he taunts. "But let me show you some of this. THETA BLADE!" The fighter snaps forth at great speeds, slicing the dragon along its sides eight times. He moves back to the rank and file of the party, and eight numbers-- all in the triple digits-- pop up around the dragon's skin. It disintegrates into a cloud of pixels, and the battle state is over.

Being able to move again, I wipe my brow and stand up on wobbly legs. "Nice Limit Break there, Lu Han."

"Thanks," he replies genuinely, searching through the treasure that mysteriously appeared when the dragon died. "Let's see... about two thousand gil, a weapon none of us can use, and that dragon scale we need for the quest."

"All right," I say tiredly. "There's probably some big plot event coming up ahead, so let's save and exit now. We can play this again tomorrow."

Lu Han nods, and I sense him getting weary as well: we've been playing since training let out a few hours ago. Not that Final Fantasy EX XXVII isn't an addictive game, but RPG isn't my favourite genre, so I get bored easily. Lu Han communicates with the computer, saving our progress, and then we exit out. The VR illusion retracts suddenly, going back into the box, leaving a shell-shocked pair for a minute or two before we take off our nodes and get up to stretch.

"So, what now," Lu Han says. "There's a bit of time left before supper..."

"Dunno," I shrug. "Say, Lu Han... what do you know about that Yukito guy?"

"Who, Asakura?" he answers, intrigued. "I don't entirely know what's up with him either. I didn't actually see what happened today, but he's done that sort of thing in every one of his trial matches. None of his opponents has lasted more than a minute, or hasn't spent weeks in the hospital."

Torrus emerges again, to speak softly. I barely seem to notice the ghost most of the time, so silent is he in his vigil of his shaman. I feel a brief pang of jealousy. _"To be a shaman is to walk the line between the world of the living and the world of the dead. It is a path fraught with danger, and too many go insane along the trek."_

"I don't think he's insane," I say, trying to find the right wording for my feelings. "If anything, he seems too sane."

Torrus glances at me in surprise. _"That could be said as well. Because, in its own way, sanity is as bad as insanity for the soul."_

"Whatever," Lu Han says, and I can sense that he doesn't want to talk about it that much. "So, what's up with you and Rukh? You two have another spat?"

"I don't know," I huff. "I still need to get stronger, as this shaman thing is just about the only thing I have going for me, but he doesn't want to make me a shaman... he wants to make me a Zulu."

Lu Han frowns. "You need to get to know your ghost, though. I've heard in more powerful forms of spirit usage the shaman's combat experience matters more than the ghost's." I notice, not for the first time, the matching bald heads of the pair and wonder why this Roman monk looks more like a Buddhist one. (I only know this because a part of training is optional classes on religion and other matters of importance to a shaman. I go to them because it's easier than working out.)

"Whatever," I respond again, thinking of something to change the subject to.

"Well," Lu Han says, "you'll have to reconcile with him soon. I talked to Darui today, and he says you're in the match schedule they're announcing this evening."

"Really?" My eyes go wide with the news. "I'd better go down there and see what's happening, then."

* * *

**MATCH #5 ON AUGUST 27th, 2498  
NATSUME TAKENOUCHI (Spirit:Rukh) VS. TAO KUN (Spirit:Gai Ojiro)**

"Tao Kun?" I ask, probably mispronouncing something. It's after dinner, and me and Lu Han are reading the matches Darui just posted for the next few days.

Lu Han nods. "Chinese kid, green hair, ninja-type ghost, apparently the heir to some sort of dynasty? Doesn't ring a bell? S'okay, I don't really know him either."

"Hmm..." I puzzle. "Let's see, I'm pretty screwed without Rukh, aren't I?"

"Only slightly," he replies sarcastically.

"Hi guys," another voice, this one sounding somewhat depressed, says from behind me. I turn around to see Janna, a sobering expression on her face.

"Hey," Lu Han responds softly. "What's up?"

"Oh, nothing," says Janna. "It's just that guy is still around, looking vindicated, and..."

_"Actually, I don't see Asakura around much,"_ Torrus corrects, earning a Glare of Death from the Jovan girl. _"I believe he mostly keeps to himself."_

"Whatever," Janna says, standing next to Lu Han. "So, are you boys doing anything tonight? I'm in the mood for some Tetra Legacy, and Shi isn't too good at it, so you could at least give me a challenge." Tetra Legacy is a puzzle based multiplayer game that Janna happens to be the local champion at. It's fun sometimes, but it's an acquired taste, and neither Lu Han nor I like it that much. 2

I try to come up with an excuse. Rukh. I needed to go find Rukh. "Sorry, I'd love to, but I have to find my ghost. He ran off again." I groan. This is becoming a pattern.

Janna smirks. "Well then, how about you, Lu Han?"

"Uh..." he stutters, and it seems strange to see him being so awkward. "Of course I'll play with you."

As Janna drags the Korean boy off to her room, I turn back to my own thoughts. I really do have to train with Rukh for my match tomorrow. It's strange, at the same time I want to do well at the shaman fight, and yet I can't help but think this feels frivolous. I suppose the last one is from being a student for so long: going from computers and tests to ghosts and combat is a jarring transition not helped by the week in the asylum.

* * *

Apparently Soun has his own office, which is located completely apart from the dormitories. In the end, I wound up having to ask a couple of shamans who've been here for a long time for help, and even then I got a bit lost in the administrative wing of the building before reaching a simple door.

I knock, and the metal door swings open. Soun stands there, dressed in his monk garbs, looking nonplussed. His office is dark behind him, besides a small candle lit on a desk. He stares at me. He's expecting a question.

"Er, my spirit-- Rukh, that's his nume-- ran off, and I was wondering if it wouldn't be too much trouble for you to--" I am cut off when the brown haired boy shoves his hand to my face and walks back to his desk. Curious, I step a few feet into his office. My eyes are already adjusting to the dim light. It looks like a gothic version of your typical office-- a dark wood desk, files stored on bookshelves, and no windows. I see he has a shelf of things that look like miniature tombstones, each with its own inscription.

He picks up one almost casually, and tosses it towards me. I fumble for it, fearing that it may be fragile. Luckily, I manage to catch it, cradling the stone in my hand. "It's a memorial tablet," Soun explains, sounding tired. "You can keep ghosts in it, and call them out. Very handy. Oh, it has your Zulu inside as well."

Soun glares at me. He wants me out of the room. But I am still unsure. "Er, how do I call out Rukh?"

I blush as he gives me the glare one would give a total idiot. "If you can't figure that out, you don't deserve to be here." Sensing I'm not going to get any more of an answer, I step out and see the door shut in my face.

* * *

You know, for a place full of students in Japan-- a region even more densely populated than most of the world-- there are still a lot of private places at CIASOSM. Particularly since it's evening, and few people are training. I'm currently sitting on a small hill in the park, enjoying the sights in the reduced lighting-- they could never really do dusk right, so they just turn down the overhead lights.

I hold out the item Soun gave me, and remember his words. Well, here goes. I open up my body, freeing my soul. Cautiously, I go through the rites. I feel my soul stretching out, urging to touch, and direct its feelers to the memorial tablet in my hand. I reach out, feeling the small black item, and sense a powerful spirit encased in there. With one last pull, I free it, and snap my mind back to its normal state.

_"Phew,"_ Rukh says, wiping sweat from his brow. The motion is unnecessary to the spectre, but he still does it anyway. Ghosts keep the habits they had as living bodies. In a way, I suppose, all ghosts are trying to do is imitate their past lives. _"It's cramped in there. And dark."_

"Remember that the next time you want to run off," I say, authority creeping into my voice.

Rukh shoots me a glare, but says nothing. _"All right then, shaman, what do you want to do to train? Your match is tomorrow, right?"_

"Hey, how do you know?" I ask.

_"These things get around. Things aren't exactly private if you're a ghost,"_ he explains with a shrug.

I ponder what to work on next. The Impi drills obviously aren't working, I can't be trained to adapt a whole fighting style in such a short time. So it looks like Rukh will have to do most of the work. I feel a bit guilty about it, and I swear to become stronger soon. Wait, why am I feeling guilty? He's my ghost, I shouldn't have to get his approval. "We should do some integration."

_"Whatever,"_ says Rukh, and he poofs into spirit ball form. As with all ghosts, his spirit ball looks deadly but cute. It's a brown luminous head with two spears crossed behind it. I chuckle, and then reach out and grab it.

Okay, how did Lu Han say to do it... I visualize Rukh's spirit, and sense my soul as an entity as well. Then, slowly moving my hands, I press the spirit ball to my chest, trying to draw Rukh's soul into my own. My spirit shirks back at the invasion, but with determined will I force the Zulu spirit into it. Then, I hang there for a minute, feeling Rukh's soul and my own moving around inside of me.

It's like nothing I've ever felt before. It's like I have my mind, and then there's another one, thinking concurrently. Rukh's thoughts and mine flit between brains as if they are nearly overlapping. Small memories enter my mind... a young African girl, screaming and rocking back and forth, and feelings of helplessness... a small army of British soldiers, each carrying a musket, laughing and jesting as they walked over the hill, unaware of the ambush...

My head feels heavy, like I have a headache, yet the rest of my body feels lighter. Actually, it's more numb. My arms and legs feel distant from my brain, and it takes effort to loosely move them. At the same time, I can hear my heart beat fiercely, like it's right next to my head. The world around me spins, as one body tries to internalize two souls, and pain starts to creep through. Five seconds, or what seems like a lifetime, later, Rukh's soul unceremoniously popped out, the shock of the experience causing both of us to lose control.

The Zulu panted. _"Wow, that was... interesting."_

"Quite an experience," I agree. How can the other shamans even move, much less fight, with that much going on in their body?

The two of us are silent for a moment. _"We'll have to practice some more."_

And so we do. We integrate several times more, until we can hold onto it and still walk around. It's about then that the mechanical buzzer rings, signalling the curfew. We swear to get some more work done tomorrow, and I retire to my dorm rooms. Lu Han starts to ask me something, but as soon as I hit the bed I'm fast asleep.

The next morning, Lu Han and Janna wake me up, and I dash out to practice some more. Not as isolated as it was last night, but it's not like it's odd to see someone training around here. So what if it's something most of the kids here did long ago? Anyway, after refreshing our integration drills, me and Rukh go through the old spear routines, with him taking a front seat. Strangely, when we do it together, the spear and shield feel lighter, and our movements faster, as if I'm gaining the muscles of an athletic 20-something-year-old Zulu.

So, now we've got this mysterious Tao Kun up against a Zulu dragging the body of a teenage boy around. Lovely. Well, at least it's better than a day ago. But, as the announcement of our fight comes on, it still doesn't seem like enough.

* * *

"Our next match shall be between Tao Kun and Natsume Takenouchi!" Darui announces, and butterflies hit my stomach hard.

A small crowd begins to gather, and I step towards the combat circle. It looks a lot smaller than before. I swallow the lump in my throat as my new-found friends push me forward.

"Come on, you'll be fine," Lu Han advises.

"Kick his ass," Janna says. More to the point, I guess.

My opponent enters, and I notice he isn't accompanied by anyone. As described to me before, Tao Kun is definitely Chinese and has short green hair. He also stands a few centimetres shorter than me. He wears a black tank top that highlight well built muscles, and jean shorts that go down to about the knee. On the shorts are several notches designed to hold weapons-- and they are well equipped with shuriken and kunai. 3 I don't see his ghost.

Kun offers me his hand, and it takes me ten seconds to notice it. Hastily, I grab it, and shake it hard. He snaps it away, as if bitten, and glares. No words are needed. A bit awkwardly, the fight is on.

I see his ghost for the briefest of moments, a figure dressed in a black cloak, before it turns into an obsidian spirit ball form. Rukh does the same beside me, and we both press them into our bodies and initiate integration at about the same time. For the first time, the prospect that Kun could not be immeasurably stronger than me occurs to me.

We attack first, our spear already brought to bear. Kun seemed unprepared for the sudden attack, but at the last minute dodges to the right and grabs our right arm. From seemingly nowhere, he produces a kunai and stabs at our wrist with it. If he struck, it would disable our weapon arm, and likely render us unable to fight. However, we raise our shield and charge in with that, pushing the Chinese boy away.

We fall into the basic attack practice-- use the shield to pin his weapon, then thrust forward with the spear. Unfortunately, when we do so he draws a second kunai with his left hand and parries just as well with it. Shit! He's ambidextrous, or something like that. One of the kunai now stabs towards us, and we are forced to dodge backwards.

_"We need to think of something,"_ I whisper mentally, but can't talk too long. Kun is onto us with amazing speed. Still, speed has a price-- if he's that hard to hit, odds are he can't take too many blows. Still, it is of little use as he lays into us, a kunai stabbing our arm and drawing a spurt of blood onto it.

In response, we jab forward, managing to connect but not pierce with the Chinese shaman's skin. Kun leaps back, using the motion to propel himself into the air. And then we feel a ripple in the arena, like something big is trying to push through into reality. **"Ninjutsu technique!"** Kun cries out. **"Makabishi Hell!"** There's a puff of smoke, and suddenly spikes are raining from the sky. We duck under our shield, but miraculously none of them hit us.

We look around. There are spikes everywhere in the circle except for two spots-- where we're standing now, and a small circle which Kun lands in. None have flown outside of the lines, and we know that the attack was very precise. _"Now what?"_ I ask. _"He can't attack with us separated like this."_

I get my answer as Kun draws three stars from the shuriken holders on his jeans. His hands moving like lightning, he tosses them straight at us. We manage to dodge the first, though there's not much room, and we block the second with a shield. The third, however, glances our ear, cutting it. We curse-- the wound on our arm is still slowly bleeding, and we can't move very well. We could throw the spear, but if he dodged that we'd be completely defenceless.

**"Do you want to quit? You can, you know,"** Kun offers, and his double voice sounds odd to me.

_"What do we do?"_ I ask, worried.

It's a few seconds before Rukh produces an answer. _"Hold your ground. He's got to run out of those things eventually."_

**"No,"** we say, and blink at our double voice as well. Kun shrugs, and then produces another set of shurikens, and then another, and then another. We spend the next five minutes dodging, blocking, and getting small cuts all over our body. However, it seems like he's finally out of shuriken at least.

_"All right, so what now?"_ I ask my spirit. It's then that something chills our blood. The various shuriken scattered around the circle begin floating in air-- and then return to Kun.

_"Damnit! Ghost powers!"_ Rukh curses. Kun throws another shuriken at our feet, and we barely dodge. It's only a waiting game now. Maybe we should resign.

_"Do you have any powers like that?"_ I ask, as a shuriken strikes us on the arm and aggravates the kunai wound from earlier.

We pause, and I desperately hope the answer is in the affirmative. It is. _"Yes, but you'll have to let me have complete control. And then we'll have to move very quickly after that. Understand?"_

We raise our shield again, and feel another shuriken get stuck in the wood. _"All right."_ And then I let go.

It's a strange feeling, not being in control of your body. I mean, it's like you're there, but you're paralysed. Only instead of just standing, you're doing things on your own, and you can feel things, but you can't react to them. We--I--no, Rukh slams his spear down into the ground. **"Tremor!"** I can feel his spiritual energy coursing through the ground, causing a small, localized earthquake. Several makabishi fly up into the air, and Kun stumbles in mid throw.

_"Now!"_ My mind is snapped back to our body, and with long gaits we rush to where Kun is standing, currently flat-footed due to the tremor. The odd spike hits our foot, but at this point pain is far from our mind. Finally, we reach our destination. We shove our spear up towards Kun's head with great force. If we weren't still holding it point down, it would probably have impaled his brain. As it is, our momentum tosses him up into the air, and he slides out of the arena.

Darui throws his hand up into the air. "Natsume is the winner!" Rukh separates from me, and we're both exhausted from the fight. At the same time, a new kind of exhilaration is filling me: victory. Janna and Lu Han rush forward to congratulate me, but then notice the makibishi still scattered around the arena and stand back. A second's pause, then I laugh uproariously. Somehow, me and Rukh had won.

* * *

I finally get around to taking a shower after that, washing away the sweat and blood (the cuts were cleaned afterwards) from my body. My feet are still a pain to walk on, and that spot on my arm is sore, but other than that I'm mostly tired.

I walk out of the shower and find the boy who fifteen minutes ago was my opponent-- Tao Kun. He's just getting dressed, and seems mournful somehow. I should probably try to cheer him up. "Hey," I greet casually. Kun doesn't respond. "Hell of a fight you put up out there."

"Yeah, but I still lost," he says.

"You're missing the point," I remark. "I mean, hell, you were schooling me right up until the very end. I'm still not sure how Rukh pulled that shit off."

"Rukh?" Kun asks.

"My ghost," I explain.

Kun's face falls again, and I wonder why. "Say, what about your ghost? Did he teach you all that crazy ninja stuff as well?"

"No, I was taught by my father," the Chinese boy explains. "Ojiro... doesn't really talk that much. He's had it forced out of him. The Tao family doctrine is that spirits are weapons, and their goals are ultimately unimportant."

"Wow, I wish Rukh lived by that," I say, even though privately I think it's a little weird. "He's always arguing with me." My confidence falls halfway through that sentence. Truthfully, I can't imagine that we'd have been able to win that fight if Rukh hadn't trained me. And it would get kind of lonesome by myself. I remember again how Kun didn't have anyone supporting him in the match. Maybe I could...

I look up, to see that Kun has left already. Every day, I realize that this place is just full of enigmas. Maybe Torrus was right...

* * *

Footnotes:

1 Tengu are mischievous crow spirits in Japanese folklore.

2 If the people in this story seem to talk about video games a lot, it's because of two reasons (not counting my own like for them.) One, they're more popular in general in the future, a media about on par with television progs. Two, the trainees at CIASOSM prefer them as they at least do a little to hone the mind and reflexes, while at the same time being a way to relax.

3 These are ninja weapons. Kunai are basically a style of knives, and shuriken are ninja stars. Makibishi are essentially caltrops, or spikes to be thrown on the ground. Yes, I've been watching too much Naruto.

Author's Notes: 

Well, that's another chapter down. Two more characters introduced, with more on each later-- I swear, the character dump gets lighter after this! Plus, the first first-person fight scene. I thought that using first person plural while integrated was a pretty interesting way to express the perspective of the shaman. Also, I greatly hope that the fight scene was good. Feel free to tell me if it wasn't.

Sorry if this one took a while (not the distance from the last chapter, mind you, but from the last fanfic I did). It was crunch time at school, you see. Scary stuff. Chapter 6 should be done sooner, though maybe not that soon if it turns out to be as long as this one. This one feels longer than the others, anyways, I'm typing it up in an HTML composer so I'm not too sure about the page count.


	6. A Visitor In The Night

Author's Notes: 

Hey, it's me again, in a special-location author's notes... or something like that. Anyways, my reason for putting this up here is to note a new addition to the story and its styles. If you see a character's name underlined, like this on a line, it means that the story shifts to said character's point of view. Which means that you'll get to see some other perspectives, though Natsume will still be the main character. Other stylistic indicators include _italics_ to indicate a ghost's speech, or a shaman's speech to his ghost while integrated, and **bold with stars** to indicate an integrated shaman's speech and/or attack names.

Also, there are now character profiles up at my website. They don't contain a whole lot of information, but they may be interesting to you anyways.

* * *

Lu Han  
I don't dream very much.

When I was younger, I used to have very vivid dreams. I remember waking up in terror from some nightmare, or being able to remember what I dreamed a week later. Hell, I still remember the contents of some of those dreams from earlier. But as I got older, and progressed farther into my shamanic training, the dreams started disappearing. Now, I hardly ever dream.

I suppose I must, but just don't wake up during one of them, and as such don't remember them. But still, it feels odd, lying down to go to sleep and then waking up the next morning with no segue in between. Torrus says that it's because of my meditation, and balancing myself means less stray pieces of consciousness to create dreams with. Maybe.

But last night, I dreamt. And I still remember it now.

I was walking through a dark forest. It must have been winter, since a bitterly cold wind whistled through the bare branches of the trees. These selfsame branches stretched out like claws, red light casting dozens of shadows across the ground. Every time the wind rocked the trees, the shadows would move, as if trying to reach out and grab me.

Disturbed at this, I ran forward, first at a light jog, then breaking out into a full dash. There was someplace I wanted to be, on the other side of this forest, but I can't remember what now--escape was all that motivated me. I kept running until I hit a tree root, and went flying. For some reason, I couldn't catch myself, and wound up hitting the ground hard. The impact rumbled through me, and I worried that I had strained something.

I got to my knees, only to notice the girl before me. She looked European, and can't have been older than six, but her eyes displayed a maturity and also a cynicism which look like they belong to someone much older. She was wearing a young girl's black dress, done up as fancy as a woman's, with white pantyhose that I couldn't avoid seeing--as the girl was hovering four feet in the air. The child was holding a sickle in her hands.

"Who... are you?" I asked. It was then that I noticed her facial features, or lack thereof. Her face was nothing more than rounded bumps where mouth, nose and eyes should be. She looked like a porcelain doll.

_"Death shall come to me,"_ she said. No part of her body moved, much less what would have been lips, and yet I knew the echoing, youthful but flat, voice was hers.

Then the girl raised her scythe, and I wondered briefly for a minute if she was going to bring it down on me--before she drove it into her own chest. Blood spurted forward onto the grass, and I jumped back, horrified. She drew her scythe downward, causing blood to pour from her body in a grotesque torrent.

Suddenly, I was no longer inside those terrible woods. Instead, I was standing in the CIASOSM parking garage--strange, as I've only seen the structure once, when I was driven in here. But the girl was still floating in front of me, her torso ripped open like the doors of an empty cabinet, its contents spilt onto the ground before me.

The only difference was, the scythe was in my hands.

"I... didn't do it!" I proclaimed feebly, dropping the weapon onto the ground in a panic. It's then that I noticed the blood had formed into marks, spelling out numbers: "10/23".

The girl's voice sounded again, more resonant despite her apparent wounds. _"Death shall come to you."_ My body began shaking, and then moving of its own volition. I picked up the scythe from the ground, my mind numbing, holding it the same way the girl did.

_"Death shall come to all."_ I drove the scythe into myself, in perfect mimicry.

* * *

Shaman King 2498  
Chapter 6:A Visitor in the Night  
by Amor

Disclaimer:Shaman King is owned by Hiroyuki Takei and others. I am using its world and concept without permission. All characters, however, and a good bit of the setting, are original. This chapter contains profanity and graphic violence. Future chapters may contain sexual overtones and homosexual relationships.

* * *

Natsume sees my distress, as evidenced by my sweat and distant recollection of the nightmare. "Is there anything wrong, Lu Han?" he asks.

"...nothing," I reply. "It's just this weird dream I had last night, is all."

_"Dream?"_ Torrus asks. _"You never dream. I am worried."_

"Well, maybe it was something," I admit hesitantly. If I could remember this dream, maybe it had more significance than I thought. My teacher once told me that nothing was insignificant. Maybe he's right, now. I describe my dream to Natsume and our ghosts.

_"Ech,"_ Rukh says after I finish. _"If that wasn't a sign or something, you've got a sick mind, boy."_

"Yeah, it was gory," Natsume agrees. "What about the girl? Did you recognize her?"

"No." I honestly haven't seen the girl in my life, and she didn't even seem like a girl, really. Maybe a ghost? But maybe that wasn't the real message. "10/23... that was what the blood spelt out. What does that mean? And why did I stab myself at the end? It just doesn't make any sense, guys."

_"Perhaps it was a message of some kind,"_ Torrus suggests. _"A riddle, from the gods. And the location, the girl, the number, the weapon, are all symbols."_

_"Well, when he stabbed himself, it was in the parking lot--where he entered this damn place, if I understand correctly,"_ Rukh theorizes. _"So maybe the message is saying that he's killing himself, in effect, by going to CIASOSM."_

"Interesting," Natsume adds in. "But I think that the number is the key. 10/23--it doesn't seem to have much significance, as a phrase, or as an equation. But what about a date?"

10/23. October 23rd. "That's tomorrow."

The brown-haired shaman turns away, and I sense a degree of hurt in his composure. "That's not all it is."

_"Really?"_ Torrus asks. _"What do you know about this, Natsume?"_

"October 23rd... I really haven't thought about it in a while... probably missed the last two times completely..." he says vaguely. "Well, it was about ten years ago. I was in kindergarten. On October 23rd, I stayed home from school. I had developed a bad cold overnight, and my parents were always cautious.

"That day, one of the boys in my class--Amano, I think it was, never really knew him--brought in a gun to school. His father's." Natsume's breath catches. The memory is painful. "He...opened fire on the class. Everyone was in a panic. He must have killed ten kids... and then he shot himself in the head with the last bullet. No one knows why.

"My best friend at time was killed as well. The media paid their rounds, the activists took from it what they needed to, but a month later everyone had forgotten about it. These things just happen too often nowadays. But it was an important date for me. I always wondered why. Why I stayed home that day. Why I didn't die. I don't know if that makes me blessed or cursed." His voice is even and a bit cold, but I can see his eyes tearing up. He tries to hide them, out of masculine pride.

"...wow," I say simply. I had really struck a geyser without even knowing it. Maybe my judgement of Natsume as your average kid wasn't accurate after all. But does this really have anything to do with my dream? I place an awkward hand on his shoulder, and he turns away stiffly.

_"Harsh,"_ Rukh whistles. _"But that's not the reason, right? It's probably just a coincidence, especially seeing how it _ is _ tomorrow."_

"Yeah," Natsume says, inhaling again. "You're probably right. It just made my remember something I really didn't want to.

_"Say, you know what we should do?"_ Torrus says, changing the subject. _"We should ask Janna to perform one of her auguries on Lu Han. It will tell us if your dream was in fact a symbol, or a message, or if it was just a vivid nightmare."_

I nod. Janna's discipline is the shamanic magic practised by the Native American tribes, much like Darui's Patch. Her methods should be able to tell us if anything in particular gave me that dream. And it'll at least get Natsume's mind off of this impending anniversary.

* * *

Though we're supposed to be training, the only administrative people around are Darui (who is always coaching a match or some such) and Soun (who just doesn't give a damn), so it's fairly simple to set up a little seance like this. We're sitting crouch-legged in Janna's room. I've been here before, and it doesn't look much different from my and Natsume's room, except for the boy-band posters which Janna swears are Shi's.

Janna and I sit across from each other, a circle drawn with ritual dust. Natsume sits on Janna's bed, looking at the ceremony with mild interest. Torrus and Rukh are sitting by idly.

Janna raises her hand. "Lu Han Chang, are you certain that you wish your dream of the past night to be divined by the spirits?"

"Yes," I reply. It's an obvious exchange, but one that is required by ritual

"Very well then," she said. Her two animal spirits appear, then she grabs one of their spirits in each hand. Janna is nothing like her usual, easygoing self... it's like she's the one possessed. Her eyes are glazed over, and to be honest, she reminds me of Soun. She slams her palms into the circle with a surprising amount of force. "Spirits of sky and sea, surrender your power into the ritual, divine what troubles this soul.

The soil drawing glows, and the dust begins to slowly float upwards, surrounding us with a rainbow of glowing grains. Janna is chanting quickly, under her breath, though I can't understand the words--and I somehow doubt even she can. It feels as if my body, the outer carriage of my soul, is cracking open. My eyes stare straight ahead as it falls away, and it feels like I'm truly naked and open for just a minute. And then, staring forward, my mind ceases.

* * *

Natsume

I watch the ceremony with fascination. The dust in the air seems to obscure it, but I can see that Lu Han has stopped moving, and is staring forward like a guppy. Janna's eyes are hidden, and her facial expression is unreadable as she begins to whisper quickly. I strain to hear what she says. This is a side of shamanism I've never seen before. Maybe I could use my abilities to help people...

Janna holds up her hands, and her face shoots up. Her eyes stare at Lu Han's, and both are blank. The dust flashes and vanishes. This is the apex of the ritual! Getting excited, I lean forward, trying to see what's happening. There's an electric connection, almost insensible, between the two, and--

--they both suddenly go back to normal.

I fall off the bed, having leaned forward expecting something a bit more dramatic. "Ow," Janna says. She's describing her own pain not mine. "It always smarts after you do that thing... just the extension of soul... I'm gonna be at half-power for a week, I swear."

"It's all right," Lu Han says. "So what did you see."

She sighs. "Well, near the end of last night, something attacked your dreamscape. They got through, and from what I can presume sent you that dream."

"So, what was it?" I ask. I hope that no one's actually trying to hurt Lu Han.

"A ghost, from what I can tell," says Janna. I don't think she's sure. "It's very suspicious."

What do we do now? Lu Han asks that very question, taking the words out of my mouth. Janna responds with "How am I supposed to know?" and a noncommital shrug. "Lu Han, you have really strong willpower, so if it can attack you like that I'm scared."

"Not much we can do, then?" I say. Odd. Janna says she's scared, but the expression on her face is even, and the corners of her mouth are even turning up a bit in a grin.

"No," Lu Han sighs angrily. "Whoever this is, they're toying with us."

"Why don't we ask Darui?" I suggest.

"Go to the official to solve your problems?" Janna asks. "You're a brave one." Needless to say, I don't like her tone of voice.

"Now let's not get too hasty here," Lu Han adds. Does he think that her and I were getting to hostile? Whatever. "I don't think we should alert Darui. It's just a one-time thing, so it could be a student messing around with us. And if it's a foreign attack... I don't want to think about it."

"Why not?" I ask. I worry about sounding stupid, but then again, I need to learn these things to.

Lu Han answers with "Well, the politics would be quite messy. If we treated this as a serious assault, and it was from an empire like America, it could well mean an exchange between militaries-- which we are. Darui would demand an apology, and the bigwigs over there haven't given one of those for centuries, and there could be all-out war. The other empires would join in, or sit back and swoop in when all of the involved are worn down. It would be world war."

"Wow," I say simply. I never thought that a personal problem like this could possibly be related to a global event. His connections seem a little unlikely, but eminently possible.

"Of course, Darui would probably just dismiss it, whether he believed it was a dream or fear of that," Lu Han reassured. "But still, that doesn't help us. Consider it a test of our shamanic abilities.

"Well, in my case, they direly need testing," I joke. Despite my decisive victory over Tao Kun last month, and a subsequent victory over another opponent a couple weeks ago, my shaman skills are still fairly pathetic. At least I think so.

Say, shouldn't Janna be jumping in the conversation right about now? We both look over to see her in the same position, eyes closed, quietly sleeping. Her mouth is open slightly, and a bit of drool is leaking out, dribbling down onto her uniform's skirt.

"The ceremony must have exhausted her..." Lu Han explains, wiping the drool on her clothes away. I think that if she expended that much energy, we should have got a less vague answer, but I keep that to myself. Lu Han lifts her up in his arms, making a groan based on her weight, betraying his heroic guise. He gently lays Janna down on the bed, and it's hard to miss the light of affection in his eyes.

It's kind of cute. We both leave the sleeping girl to rest as we quietly exit, heading back to our room.

* * *

I wake up suddenly the next morning. Normally I have to be dragged out of bed, but this time there's no trace of fatigue touching my body, like I suddenly went from being fast asleep to my energy level in the middle of the day. Lu Han, beside me, has also woken up, but he is sitting on the side of his bed, clutching his mattress like a life raft.

"Are you okay?" I ask.

"I had another dream..." he mutters. "There was another girl... older... looked more alive, a human being..."

"Pardon?" I ask, moving closer.

Lu Han is covered in sweat, and for the first time in all the time I've known him, he honestly looks scared. "...she wants to fight."

"What?"

"She said that she wants to fight me, in the garage. Tonight, at midnight. You too. Natsume... I'm scared."

* * *

"Fight you?" Janna asked, leaving her breakfast untouched. Lu Han's news-- we're whispering, to avoid alerting anyone-- had upset her as soon as she heard it. "Damnit... and you're going to go through with this?"

"I don't see where I have a choice," Lu Han remarks. "If I don't go, these dreams'll just continue, and she might attack on her own terms."

"So might as well fight her now?" I ask. Something doesn't seem right here, and I really think that we could afford to call this mysterious girl's bluff. What's the worst that could happen? Besides, like Lu Han said, if we fought her it could cause an international incident. And she could just as easily kill us. No, it's better to be safe than sorry...

...my objection dies in my throat. Lu Han is staring forward steadfastly, his wide eyes formed in full resolve. Maybe we should fight. At worst, it was another shaman, and I'd better get used to fighting those. "All right. We'll go out there. We really don't know what's going on anyway."

"You shouldn't," an almost monotone voice says from beside us. I whip my head around to see who it is, wondering how much they had heard. Kun--the boy I had defeated about two months ago--is sitting beside us, unnoticed, without food. He looks much the same, with his green hair even being the same length.

"How did you get here?" I ask, panicked.

The Chinese boy shrugs. "Secret ninja tricks," he replies dryly. "Anyway, it's really stupid for you to go out to fight someone like that. It could be a trap, after all. You don't know what they want, or what you stand to gain. All you have to work on is dreams."

Janna growls. "So what? I know those dreams came from someone... or something else. Like Lu Han just said, we're basically at whoever's mercy, so why not fight back?"

"You could get yourself killed!" Kun argues.

Lu Han shrugs, his eyes closed in passive defiance. "So? What do you care? Less competition, right?"

"I..." Kun's face hardens all of a sudden. "Well, you two can go ahead and do whatever you want. But Takenouchi... don't go. You defeated me before. If you die, I can never reclaim my honour."

Kun is gone. I blink. How did he disappear like that? Rubbing my eyes, I can still see Janna frown darkly. "What the hell?"

"Reclaim my honour..." I say out loud. What Kun just said sounded like something out of an old samurai prog. "I wonder if he really means that..."

"Not likely," Janna snorts. "I wish I could come with you guys, but I'm still recovering my mana from that damn ritual. Your mind is really hard to read, you know?"

"Sorry," says Lu Han sheepishly. "But you know, Natsume, we should probably prepare. Train, come up with a plan in the event of combat... maybe find someone who's willing to be our backup."

I nod. "Yeah. And then... it's the big event."

* * *

Our preparations, however, don't go as well as we planned. There's nothing we can really take with us, and Rukh's lessons have started going in circles lately. I've got the basic manoeuvres down, but the more complex stuff still sends me sprawling over my own feet. As for backup, Janna was out of the picture, Kun had pulled a disappearing act, and Shi had threatened to tell Darui after we told her. Needless to say, my thoughts of the purple-haired girl went down after that.

So, me and Lu Han are alone, sneaking out into the parking lot. A couple ghosts guard the halls, but they aren't very smart (being raised souls put under the instruction of Soun) and it's a big facility. Trying to find a path to the parking lot was harder, but with some recollection I remembered the way I was sent and we headed down the stairs just past Darui's room. I suppose we were lucky he didn't see us there and reprimand us.

All looks well. The park looks normal--asphalt on the ground, mostly empty, signs telling us that absolutely no unauthorized trespassers were allowed. Still, there's something in the air that feels uneasy. I can tell that I'm not alone, as the ghosts have turned into spirit ball form, as if we were about to go into battle. I suppose it's a spiritual form of your adrenaline pumping.

Lu Han is the first to notice something. "The lights are on. If no one was expected to be arriving soon--and they usually don't do it in the dead of night, in case you're wondering-- then the lights would be off."

"Good eye," I say. Though, it wasn't really his eye. "Er, brain."

Somehow, Lu Han ended up leading the two of us and our ghosts. We walk up a ramp, unafraid of vehicles, as he forges ahead cautiously. We go up onto another level, when he suddenly stops meaningfully. "Here. This is where it happened in my dream."

"I see," I say, wondering what's going to happen next.

I get my answer soon.

The first thing I see is the shadow, and then she falls to earth, landing gracefully on her feet. She has long, silky black hair which flows as she moves. Her face looks European, western, though I can't pin it down to a specific country. Her arms and legs are long and slender, and her body is good, looking as though it belongs to a dancer.. This girl is wearing a somewhat frilly dress, that wouldn't have looked out of place in Victorian England. It clings to her breasts, but puffs out rather ridiculously around her legs. The dress is pure black.

"You are Lu Han Chang and Natsume Takenouchi, correct?" she asks. I notice that in her right hand she is holding the hilt of a long scythe.

"Yeah," I say breathlessly. "Who are you?"

"Elizabeth..." she introduces herself. It sounds like she's going to add a last name for a minute, but doesn't. "Elizabeth, of the Releasers."

The danger seems greatest now, and I realize that it's emanating from the strange girl, Elizabeth. Still, Torrus breaks out of spirit ball mode for just a minute. "The Releasers... what do you want to release? What's your goal?"

"What do you think it means, priest?" Elizabeth asks with obvious contempt. "I don't need to explain myself to my enemies--they will find out our philosophy after battle, when they leave the land of the living." She raises her scythe in a combat position. I don't really understand what she's saying, but remember that she called us here to fight. I raise my spear and shield, and Rukh positions himself near me.

"Wait!" Lu Han says. "What do you want? You can't just want to fight us. What's your goal here?"

She smiles simply, and a chill larger than any other runs up my spine. "Death." Elizabeth raises her spare hand, and what seems to be the ghost of a child appears beside her.

Lu Han gasps. "That's the girl from my dreams!"

Elizabeth chuckles silently. "Marion, lend me your power!" Dark tendrils stretch out from the young girl and seem to infuse Elizabeth. She throws her head back, closing her eyes as if drinking in the energy of her ghost. My spiritual sense starts going off heavily. She regards us again. Crap! I've gotta integrate!

Rukh is already ahead of me, and he slams into my chest, as my hands are full. Integration this way is a bit jarring, but I've trained with it. Beside me, Lu Han and Torrus are integrating. The speed integration ends up saving me as Elizabeth rushed right at us, her fancy black dress almost blurring with inhuman speed. We barely raised out shield to block the scythe strike in time, and dance back, trying to buy room.

Lu Han rushes her, trying to catch her off guard, but Elizabeth seemingly effortlessly swings her scythe in a deadly arc his way, stopping him in his tracks. We use this opportunity to thrust forward with our spear, but she merely jumps back, flying too high through the air before landing where she began.

We charge recklessly, as Lu Han stands behind us for backup. With a spin of her scythe, she blocks our spear with the handle of her scythe, pushing it aside before stabbing towards us with the blade. Awkwardly, we throw our shield in front of the weapon, barely blocking the attack. Then, feeling something coming, we spin to the side to allow Lu Han's Mercurial Arrow to past through, flying directly to the Releaser girl.

Unfortunately, Elizabeth also felt the spiritual disruption caused by the attack. She jumped back, then bounced off the wall, and the attack froze plaster. Momentarily stunned at her kung-fu-like agility, we're momentarily taken aback when she lands in front of us again and spins her scythe towards us. Fortunately, she landed farther away than she had thought, so a small cut on our flank is the only damage--but it hurts. I want to clutch the wound in pain, but Rukh sees a golden opportunity.

We reach out and traps the blade of the scythe with our shield. Elizabeth gasps and tries to pull away. It's too late. We thrust forward, hoping for an impaling (despite my squeemishness), but at the last second she twists to the side, pulling her scythe out from our shield. Our spear catches one of the frills on her dress and tears it, exposing a band of smooth flesh that would be tantalizing in other circumstances.

**"Mercurial Arrow!"** Lu Han proclaims, and he finally hits his mark. Elizabeth cries out as ice coats over her body, and while something stops her from being completely frozen her ivory skin has now turned a sick shade of pink, as if frost-bitten. She staggers back, and we take the opportunity to smack her in the face with our shield. Lethal force won't be necessary. Elizabeth falls to the ground, smacking her head on the pavement.

**"It's not over!"** Lu Han warns as he dashes to the ground where she fell. In his hand, he is holding a holy symbol, the (medical coat of arms), glowing with spiritual power. He slams the (insert) onto Elizabeth's fallen form, and power crackles against her body. I feel my bonds with Rukh being worn away just from his spell. **"Ghost, depart from this shaman's flesh and surrender unto my magic! Excorsism!"**

There's a pause. Is it gone? Lu Han stands up and raises his hands--an all clear sign?

Before we can respond, the blunt end of Elizabeth's scythe smacks him in the jaw, and she stands up with renewed vigour. She's definitely still integrated, but instead of attacking she lets lose with a laugh--a light, tinkling giggle, as one would expect on a young girl or a noble. "Idiot."

_"Stay,"_ Rukh instructs me, despite my best instincts.

Elizabeth waves her scythe around like a prop, and we notice her spirit's energy gathering on it. "Marion is no ordinary human ghost. She is a spirit, but not of nature--she is one generated by human emotion, by tragedy, by our own hellish world. Marion is the symbol of childhood tragedy, of lost innocence. My sadness, and that of yours-- Natsume. That of many at this academy. Except for you, Lu Han. Marion found nothing in your dreams. My target was initially only you, but that involved him as well."

Lu Han looks like he's about to respond, and we are about to ask her how she knows my name, but Elizabeth waves her scythe and all falls silent. Speaking seems unthinkable. "Don't be sorry. I'm not envious of you. In fact, I pity you." She smirks, the corners of her black-toned lips turning upwards. "After all, you are stuck on this wretched world, denied of death by those who hold your puppet strings. You will thank me, once you are in the next world. **HADES'S TOUCH!**"

I can't really describe what happens next. The end of her scythe turns into a silver streak, impossible to track, speeding around faster than sight. The hilt forms a black sphere, as if protecting the death from interference. Blood flies out in small arcs, and Lu Han's screams are always cut off before they can come to fruition. Anger and horror flows through me, as we grip the steel hilt of our weapon. Finally, Elizabeth ceases unemotionally, and the bald shaman falls to the ground in a pool of crimson.

I thank Rukh mentally once again as he propels us forward, though I pour my rage and emotion into the attack as well. Elizabeth turns her head, her mouth caught in a small 'o' as our spear is shoved into her gut, gore splaying out and onto my hand. With no further reaction, she topples back, the spirit known as Marion materializing as she hits the ground, eyes closed.

Is she still alive? Did I take a life. We de-integrate, and as Rukh keeps an eye on her, I head over to Lu Han. The sickening thought occurs to me: I may be the only survivor of this battle.

Fortunately, the Korean coughs, and slowly sits up. He isn't bleeding any longer, though there are cuts all over his body, and his uniform is generally shreds. He looks at me curiously. "She... she didn't hit any vital areas. That wasn't a killing blow."

Satisfied that he's safe, at least for now, I turn to Elizabeth's prone form--right as Rukh flies to me, assuming spirit ball form in guarding. I get the same feeling I got on the way here-- an eerie sense of impending doom, or at least a large spiritual presence. Then he steps into view. He is bearing no open weapon, but is wearing a loose robe which could be concealing anything. He has a handsome face and short black hair, and looks to be European as well, though not the same as Elizabeth.

This newcomer walks over to Elizabeth, sliding my spear out of her. I raise my shield, realizing that I don't have another weapon and Lu Han is highly vulnerable. But he doesn't seem to mind. The mysterious man picks her up, sliding one arm under her chest and the other beneath her knees to carry her. It would almost be romantic if not for the disapproving look on his face.

He looks towards me. "I wouldn't interfere. Elizabeth failed to release even one of you, but I could destroy you both with one stroke at this point. Suffice to say, she shall be... punished." A strange resentment wells up in me, but for the life of me I can't figure its source.

With a combination of fear and guardedness, both Lu Han and I sit like stone buddhas as the mysterious man walks away into the darkness of the parking lot, the mysterious lady reaper in his hands. Finally, after he's gone, and his presence has faded, we stop being tense and almost fall straight onto our faces.

"Well that was... interesting," Lu Han says, tiredly.

"You okay?" I ask.

"Yeah," he shrugs it off. "It'll hurt like hell in the morning, though."

"The morning." I wince--there always does have to be a morning after, and in this case it'll be hard to hide our battle, with Lu Han full of gashes like he is. But more pressing problems concern me--namely, who was she? Who are the Releasers? And what does it all mean? To think, shamans once seemed complicated to me...


	7. The Unseen Enemy

I wake up on my bed. It seems to be the softest it's ever been, even up against my sore body. The 7:00 buzzer penetrates the air like a knife, but I, with my head buried in the pillow, can't find the energy to shut it off. The wound in my side still aches. 

Wound in my side? My mind dense, I remember the events of last night, and the fight with Elizabeth. It seems impossible that we won, but yet all it taught us was that there were people out there more powerful who wanted us dead. Or was that really their motive after all? Confusion clouds the already dense haze of a headache in my head. 

...not helped by that annoying buzzer! Anger momemtarily overcoming my lethargy, I lunge out and press in the button, ending the noise. I rest my chest on the headboard of the bed, sighing with fatigue. My eyes half-open, and move around to see Lu Han, moaning and sweating in my bed. And then I remember his injuries. Elizabeth's flurry of blows, him falling to the ground bleeding from pretty much everywhere, my rage...

"Lu Han!" I cry, throwing the sheets off of his bed. He's still in the uniform he wore out to battle, now barely holding together. The only liquid drenching his bed is sweat, so he's not hurt, but I know that having that many open wounds isn't good for you. How stupid was I to think that this could wait until morning?

I rack my brains for what I can do, a distaste for going to Darui still at the forefront of my mind. The only person who knows we went out there last night is Janna, and even if we could do anything she's still recovering from that augury... oh, and Kun knows too I suppose, but I doubt he'd be able to do anything useful...

My mind goes back to Janna, and a memory suddenly pops into my mind... the evening where I had met some of Janna's girl friends. The estrogen levels in that room were threatening to neuter Lu Han and I, but we persevered and it was generally a good time. But my memory belatedly focuses on one girl, whom had said during one of the less silly conversations that her main ability was healing...

Wasting no time, and still wearing the sweat-drenched uniform from last night, I dash out of the door. My memory, spurred on by need, supplies a name: Kaname. It's only a first name, but it'll have to do, and fortunately our doors have first initials on them. The girls' rooms are in the same location as the boys', only on the opposite side of the hall. I found that odd when I first arrived, but I suppose that keeping the teenagers apart was either not important to them or taken as a lost cause...

Argh! I've got to focus!

I start reading the name plates, the kanji characters inscribed in the metal, across the hall. J. Takami/R. Kan'ah... S. Xing/J. Starfire... M. Wei/O. Inoue... K. Hong/Vacant... where is she?

Finally, I reach the door which promisingly reads "K. Yumitsu/C. Wu." Kaname Yumitsu... that sounds about right. I bring my fist up to the metal and knock three times. "Kaname! Are you in there? It's urgent!"

After ten tense seconds, the door opened slowly and cautiously. Kaname has light pink hair, going down to her shoulders, and is pretty cute now that I think about it... a couple years older than me. Obviously, they weren't quite ready yet, because Kaname is dressed in her sleepwear... which is apparently a pair of pajama pants the same shade as her hair and a bra. Oh my.

Must... get mind... back on track... before... killed...

"Lu Han," I blurt. "Er, what I mean is that Lu Han's hurt. It's a long story. Bad. I mean, he's hurt bad and he could really use your healing right now. Yeah. Just don't kill me-- I mean, tell anybody."

Kaname looks at me with a mixture of confusion, anger, and concern. Finally, she delivers her verdict. "Give me ten more minutes, to get changed and ready. After that, I'll see what I can do, but you'd better tell me what went on afterwards. Oh, and for future reference, my face is about a half metre higher." With that hanging in the air, she shuts the door and leaves me standing out in the hallway, unsure whether it would be appropriate to smack my head against the recently closed door.

Ten minutes later, I'm still waiting, sitting up against the wall while the digits on my clock leisurely inch upwards. Stupid girls. Lu Han's in mortal peril and she can't risk being embarassed? Though admittedly, I probably didn't make the greatest case.

The door finally opens, and a significantly more clothed Kaname walks out, scarcely paying attention to me as she walks down the hallway. I scramble up, and jog alongside her. Bitterly, I note that she seems to have put on makeup while I waited.

And then we both almost walk into the broad shoulders of Darui. With a poorly restrained smirk, he asks us "Where would you two be headed off to this early in the morning?" The look in his eyes is enough to instill panic in me.

Crap. He knows.

* * *

Shaman King 2498  
Chapter 7:The Unseen Enemy  
A fanfiction by Amor

Disclaimer:Shaman King is owned by Hiroyuki Takei and others. I am using its world and concept without permission. All characters, however, and a good bit of the setting, are original. This chapter contains profanity and graphic violence. Future chapters may contain sexual overtones and homosexual relationships.

* * *

An unsettling atmosphere descends over myself, Darui and Kaname as we march to Lu Han's room. He knows what's going on, and I know that he knows, and he probably knows that I know that he knows... and that's as far as we'll go. And she doesn't know any of this, and is getting irritated about it.

I open the door to our room, and Lu Han is still laying on the bed, the sheets where I left them. His wounds are all plainly visible, his skin marked y slim crimson ribbons. Kaname gasps as she sees him, but Darui does not seem surprised. "I believe that now would be the best time to put your talents to good use, Miss Yumitsu."

"Er... right," Kaname says, before rushing to Lu Han's side. Her spirit, a maiden in a spectral white gown, floats beside her, ready to lend help. Speaking of ghosts, Torrus is at the head of his shaman's bed, giving advice to the novice healer. I don't really know where Rukh is.

Darui turns to me, and I know this is going to be serious. "I know what happened last night. We have cameras there, after all. And our ghost gaurds are a lot more numerous and more digilent then you've been lead to believe... do you think that Soun would let them get away with any slacking off?"

"No," I admit. In hindsight, it wasn't such a great plan.

"And yet I let you go through with it. And I'm not going to punish you, or anyone else... well, Mr. Chang has had enough punishment already."

Relief flickers through me, and then confusion. "Thanks, but if I may ask... why?"

"Because," the tribesman says in a low voice, "We have actually never met one of these Redeemers before. As far as I can tell, they've either formed recently or have been lying low. In any case, watching one in battle provided us with some good information, as well as some hints towards their agenda. Besides, we can ID two of them, and we've forwarded that to the Europian Union... though whether they'll act on our information is anyone's guess." So, what was I just used for some sort of research? No consideration for my well being? No, I shouldn't begrudge him for not interfering.

"So, why did she call out me and Lu Han?"

"Well, sometimes before the Shaman Fight, competitors try to 'eliminate' their rivals before the tournament even begins," he explains. "It's not against the rules, though peirls always exist in unorganized brawls. This has been happening less during this tournament, though, as most of the prospective shamans are concentrated in places like this one. But machismo still lets events like last nights' occur."

A pearly white sheen has overtaken Lu Han's body, and I can feel the mana rolling off of Kaname's hands as Lu Han's wounds start to close. I look at Darui caluclatingly. His posture doesn't betray any emotion. "Do you think she had any other motives? I didn't quite understand what she was saying most of the time, but..." I trail off.

"Yes," Darui answers simply. "Unfortunately, my theories are classified, so I'm not allowed to share them with you."

That just about ends the conversations. An exhausted-looking Kaname brings herself to her feet. Most of Lu Han's wounds have been replaced with relatively smooth flesh. "That's about all I can do for now," she admits.

"It's all right," says Darui, moving to let Kaname exit, which she does quickly. On the way out, he says "But tomorrow, if you're feeling better, Natsume here as a wound in his side which I think you should look at." 

That's right... I'm injured from last night's attack as well. In my panic, I'd forgotten about it, but Darui (who must have either assumed it from my behavior or watched me acquire it on the cameras) didn't. With no further comment, he leaves, ending the whole affair.

Lu Han has regained full conciousness. "That was unpleasent," he says frankly.

I laugh at his directness, and slap him on the back. "Well, at least that little problem has left us. For now."

* * *

A couple days pass. Lu Han begins to recover, and Kaname heals up the wound in my side, though it's still sore. Things seem to return to normal around here. Well, as normal as they can be. Lu Han, Janna and myself hang out a lot, when I'm not training. To my surprise, Tao Kun volunteered to be my sparring partner, just a couple days ago. 

"Why me?" I asked 

Kun chose not to answer me right away, instead turning his back to me and staring off into the distance. "Well... our styles complement each other well, I suppose. Besides, you were the first person ever to hand me a loss." 

"Really?" This surprises me, I know there are powerful shamans in this institute, but Tao Kun never struck me as one of them. If anything, he was sort of a benchmark, someone with the same amount of power and skill as me, whom I could compare myself to. But then again, he did fight well during our battle. It's always possible. The cynical part of my brain says that he probably just got lucky draws. 

"Yes," he said simply. I walked over to him. He was staring up into the bright lights that replicate the sun and sky in these park-like environs. 

"I suppose that could work," I said. "I'll think about it." He almost smiles, before vanishing seemingly into midair. 

I've tried sparring against Janna and Lu Han before, but both of them fight very differently than I do. Lu Han mostly dodges, until he has a good opening and can pull off a move like his Mercurial Arrow. Janna likes to fight at a long range, whilst aside from throwing my weapon I can only harm someone in close combat. But Kun and I have similar goals in combat, though his attacks tend to be more varied. 

Rukh entered the conversation. _"I don't think you should train by fighting him, Natsume. Sorry."_

"Why not?" I asked. I wondered if he didn't like Kun for some reason. 

_"Learning how to fight is about discipline. You still haven't learned the basics of how to fight,"_ he lectured. _"If you fight this Kun too many times, you'll get complacent, and you'll be planning against every opponent as if they were him."_

"That's bullshit!" I proclaimed. I was strangely emotional now that I looked back on it. "You know that just drilling won't prepare me for a living opponent." 

Anger flushed to his face, transparent cheeks taking on a red colour. _"And when did you become the expert on fighting, boy? I'm your trainer!"_

"Well, I'm still alive, see, and that means I've done better at combat than you, by default," I remarked. You know, looking back, that was kind of a smart-ass thing to say, but boy was I mad. 

His spectral mass inflated in anger. I stepped back, a bit afraid for what he was going to do... and then he stopped and returned to his usual form, the rage seeming to leak out like air from his ballooned form. Finally, he sighed, and turned to me. 

_"See, ninjustu is based on fooling your enemies. He wouldn't want to show you all his tricks, so either he's planning to put in a sub-par effort, or he has an ulterior motive."_

He had a point, and his calm was infecting my own rage. "Well, why didn't you just say that before?" I argued. I still can't believe that Kun had malicious intent. 

_"To tell you the truth, I hadn't thought of it."_ He cracked a smile. This should have infuriated me, but instead it just made me laugh alongside him. 

After that, we practiced some more, but it had been the longest continuous conversation that the two of us have had in a while. 

So now I'm on break for practice, sitting in the cafeteria, eating my lunch. I'm sipping a high-energy sports drink, and the rest of my food has already vanished. I think I'm going to have a growth spurt soon, I've been eating more than usual for the past couple of weeks. Or maybe it's just the frequent practice and drills I've been doing. Either way, the shaman thing has been good for me in a health sense. I wasn't really out of shape before, but I've certainly lost some fat and replaced it with muscle recently. 

Odd, Lu Han and Janna haven't shown up yet. Shi sits across from me, picking at her food, but we don't talk. I really don't know what to think of her, and the two of us have never been terribly close. 

Speak of the devil. The two of them rush up, looking worried. In his hand, Lu Han holds a folded piece of paper, which he tosses at me with great urgency. Catching his breath, he says "Natsume... I thought you should know..." 

I open it hesitantly. It's the fight schedule for tomorrow. The second fight is the one that catches my attention the most. NATSUME TAKENOUCHI  
VS.  
YUKITO ASAKURA

* * *

Shit. 

That word seems to get said a lot in Lu Han's and my room, as the usual three of us deal with the recent news. "Shit," Janna mutters again. She has the most "shit"s, though I'm running a close second. 

It's understandable: I am, after all, dealing with Yukito Asakura. Not only is he the highest-ranked student, knowing the oversoul technique, but his opponents tend to have their fighting careers cancelled after that. 

"Now, let's not panic here," says Lu Han. I can tell he's trying to be the moderate voice, but he really doesn't have a lot of material to go on now. "If Darui really thought you were at risk, he wouldn't have booked the mathch." 

"He's fucking Darui, not the Great Spirit," Janna mutters. 

There has to be some way I can get out of this. "Is there a forfeit or anything I can do?" 

"No such thing," Lu han informs me with a sigh of hopelessness. "That's the whole point of training matches... that's what it's supposed to be, anyways. Most of the time, there's such a gap in skill that it ends up being one guy just pounding on the other." 

"But maybe if we ask Darui..." 

"I think we've used up the last of our good graces with him, after the incident with that girl," Lu Han said kindly but with a firm undertone. He winces, the memory seeming to bring up the pain of his buried injuries. 

Janna laughs, and lays back on the bed. It strikes me that all she needs is a smoldering cigarrette dangling from her lips to complete the image--she's been unusually crass today. "Has he ever done anything for us, really? Tossed us into the deep end, made us fight each other, take us away from our normal lives. Not that I'm complaining about missing my shitty home, but we could die in the shaman fight, and our last year or whatever before that is spent cooped up down here fighting each other for no reason? This whole government organization thing is so delayed, if you ask me." 

No one responds. I'm just trying to take in the full magnitude of what she just said. After a moment of silence, the blonde girl continues on. "You know, why don't we just leave? You guys got out to fight that Elizabeth girl well enough, security isn't exactly tight. We could just go off wherever... home, or maybe someplace else... and do whatever we wanted to. We wouldn't even have to participate in this tournament." 

Freedom. The idea is appealing. Even when I was living with my family, in Tokyo (that seems like a lifetime away now), I had always looked forward to independance, being able to do what I want, at my own pace. Now, it seems like freedom might finally be in my grasp. Sharing it with who are probably my two closest friends at the moment isn't a bad deal, either. 

Rukh is the first to interject. _"Look, that's a nice idea, but it'll never work. This place's security is like a mosquito net--it has holes, but it still does its job. Trust me, I tried to get out."_

"But you're a spirit," I argue. "Soun can't summon us back." 

"How about the entire Chinakan military?" Lu Han adds wryly. "They might not use it on a couple of punk kids like us, but I'm pretty sure it would be less freedom and more running for our lives." 

Slowly, I nod, followed by Janna. So just when it looked like I could get out of it, my out was snatched away. "Still," Janna says defiantly. "I'm not giving up. I don't want to spend the rest of my lives as a freak to fight freaks." 

The conversation moves from that to something trivial for a while. I find it hard to think about normal concerns at a time like this. Eventually, by necessity, the topic turns back to my upcoming fight with Yukito, and ways to avoid my utter destruction. 

"Do you think Yukito would leave me alone if I surrender immediately?" I ask. 

At this Rukh almost laughs out loud. _"So, you're going to hand your balls over to him on a silver platter, begging for forgiveness? What, because he beat up a little girl? I've got to say, boy, you've outdone yourself this time."_

"No, Natsume doesn't have a bad idea," Lu Han says. "I mean, Yukito really only hurts the people that get in his way, and you can't fall under that category--" 

_"If you're a complete and utter pussy."_ Rukh interjects. I begin to grow seriously irritated. How come he's being so stubborn about this? Can't he see that my life's in danger? And where did he learn swears like that, anyways? _"Why don't you just fight the guy, and if you lose you face the consequences?"_

"I can't beat Yukito." 

_"Have you ever tried?"_ That question permeates the air for a moment. I hardly expected Rukh to be the you-can-do-it type, but that's basically his message. Of course, from everything I've seen and heard, Yukito's skills far surpass my own. But maybe if I train, and strategize, and prepare obsessively I can survive, or maybe even win. But more likely, I think cynically, I'll probably just end up relying on luck. 

Torrus, silent for the entire conversation, says plainly _"Sometimes, the safest path is into the mouth of the lion."_

"You realize that what you just said makes no sense whatsoever, right," says Janna snarkily. 

Torrus merely smirks, and shuts his eyes. 

"No." I stand up, surprising my two friends. "He's right. I can't run. I'll have to try, somehow, to survive that fight with Yukito." 

The only question is how.

* * *

It's strange, the kinship I've developed with this spot next to a small hill. I've done the vast majority of my training here, and even when I'm not going through the Zulu drills I like to sit here and mull over my thoughts. The problem with this place is that there isn't enough to do. Either you train or you think about how meaningless the training is. Of course, you can play games and talk and stuff like normal teenagers would, but it doesn't help to relieve the ennui much. 

Right now, the thought of Yukito weighs heavy on my mind, so I'm training. I remember when my hands were smooth and fatty, now they're muscled and callous. At least this whole thing has been good for my fitness, but nothing comes without cost: I can't seem to remember basic facts from school. 

Augh. Listen to me complain. I should enjoy life, while I can still move. I thrust 

_"DODGE LEFT!"_

Rukh seems to be screaming into my ear, so I just follow his commands and skip sideways. Something blurs past me, impacting into the ground I was just standing on. Artificial dirt flies up in a cloud, and I glance around frantically. I'm not integrated, so I'm essentially helpless against any skilled enemy, but there don't seem to be any attacks after the first. 

_"On the hill!"_ I glance up and see a flash of brown hair, and then nothing. Whoever attacked me is fleeing. 

Before giving chase, I quickly integrate. The feelings of two souls in one rush into my body, but I'm too concerned with my assailant to care. However, as I look down, I can see what almost hit me: a smooth silver bullet. 

I run around the hill, spear and shield held out at arm's length. It's uncomfortable, but a good battle position. I dash to where my assailant should be, but just catch a sight of hazel hair before it disappears into the trees. With a curse, I leap over there, hoping that any problem the underbrush should give me will be the same to him. 

"STOP OR YOU DIE!" a deep voice rings out. I try to hit a full stop, but stumble a bit and trip over a tree root. As I hit the ground, I hear a bit of a smirk. 

I glance up to see my attacker emerge through the trees. The emotionless eyes are what catch my attention first. Yukito. 

"What the hell?" I panted. "You not content with killing me in a couple of days?" 

A pause. "I'm going to let you live now." He sounds like he thinks he's doing me a huge favour by not shooting me-- though I'm a bit thankful, staring down the barrel of his rifle. The spirit in oversoul wrapped around the handle glares down at me with the same icy anger. 

I stay frozen for a minute, and I feel Rukh flow from my body and de-integrate. Yukito laughs shallowly, and kicks my form before I hear him dashing off, crushing leaves underneath his feet. 

What just happened? He had shot at me... and then ran away. I was stupid to stop chasing him. I'm surprised he didn't kill me right there. But he didn't. I have no idea what motivates Yukito, and it scares me. 

Miserable, I drag myself to my feet. _"That kid is crazy,"_ remarks Rukh. 

"Crazy... and stronger than us," I add.

* * *

The fight begins in ten minutes. I've delayed it long enough, and I realize very suddenly that this is going to happen, and it's going to happen to me. 

Janna pats me on the back. "Don't think about it too much or you'll freeze up. Just go by instincts." 

_"Instincts?"_ Rukh snorts. _"No. We have a battle strategy planned out."_

Lu Han raises his eyebrows somewhat. "A strategy? Do you think it's good enough?" 

"No," I reply drearily. We do have a plan, of sorts-- we bull rush him out of the ring as soon as we can. All he's been known to do is shoot at people with startling speed and accuracy, and that's usually enough. The "strategy" is to just hope against hope we're fast enough to eke out a victory. 

_"You have no spirit,"_ Rukh criticizes. _"It'll work. Just wait and see."_

The role reversal causes me to crack a smile despite myself. "Now I'm the cynic?" 

"Like I said, don't worry about it," Janna says. "Just go." 

Lu Han and Janna give me thums up. Darui calls for the practice match between me and Yukito. His usual spiel just goes through one ear and out the other, as I take slow steps towards the circle. Yukito is already standing there, brown hair hanging down around his neck lazily. He holds his rifle in one hand, and his ghost-- a ladylike spirit with metallic skin-- looks at me coldly. 

He raises the rifle, his spirit turning into a whirling spiral of spectral energy before clamping down around the barrel. I raise my spear and shield, and Rukh carefully but silently integrates into me. 

My heart is pounding in my ear. 

Darui raises his hand. "FIGHT!"

* * *

Yukito

Journal Entry for October 12, 2498 

Day went as normal, with an extra focus on close-range target shooting, until 1:00 when scheduled match with Natsume Takenouchi took place. 

I have written about Takenouchi as I see him here before, so I will not go into greater detail, but suffice to say his ability has grown an amount which surpasses even my expectations. He displays good form and clever tactics, as well as above average mana and shamanic technique. 

I mention this again because he defeated me today. 

Analyzing the fight through Metella's memory, I can see exactly how the battle went, though it only lasted 13 seconds in real time. I raised my gun, and he ducked. The bullet barely missed, and broke a part of his wooden shield. Though it ricoched, there was no colatteral. Using his spear, he dashed forward the ten feet that were between us, moving the battle to a close scale which was much more beneficial to his style than mine. 

Though my bullets would not be as effective, I began to use my mana to execute a Ravaging Shards technique. Takenouchi proved too fast, however, and rushed me with his spear, which landed in my thigh causing a minor injury which I am still suffering from. His entire body weight pushed me out of bounds just as I managed to generate the shards. 

It was a clean, if somewhat opportunistic, defeat. 

I must confess that I suffered from a fierce bout of rage after that and, vainly, took aim and shot the unprepared Takenouchi. In my emotion, I did not aim for a critical area, but it still did severe damage to him. Chief Darui has informed me that he survived and is now in stable condition, and has warned me that a similar incident will result in my expulsion. I believe he suspects my previous actions of this nature, but I am keeping my trail as clean as possible. 

But I digress. Perhaps I should apologize to Takenouchi for my actions. Losing a practice match, after all, has no real effect on my goals. The only point of the excersice, and my assassination attempt, was to eliminate the competition so as to increase my chances of survival. 

In times like these, I find myself distracted. I must focus on the reason I want to survive, and proceed through the stages of the fight. As I become more powerful, and the competitors become fewer, I stand a greater chance of encountering him and, more importantly, killing him. 

I must focus on my unquestionable nemesis, the unseen enemy. 

I must focus on Hao Asakura.

* * *

Author's Notes

In the end, I can at least say it's finished. 

Just kidding. Sorry for this chapter taking so long to get out, but my attention wandered, and once school started it more or less bitchslapped my free time. I hope this chapter is worth it, there are some things I like about it and some things I don't. 

Kaname is a new character, but don't expect her to show up too much. She's really not that important. As for Hao, yes he will be in this fanfic... though how big a role he'll play is up in the air. 

Why skip the fight scene? Well, what I was getting at was that it all happened so fast it would be hard to describe in even stream-fo-conciousness style. Yukito recapped it later (by the way, the journal entry is an attempt to fool around with different forms and voices for various characters), so hopefully that's enough. 

After this, I'm probably going to work on my original story, making it suck less. Character profiles for Kun, Shi and Yukito will go up on my site sometime this week, maybe. 


End file.
